Only Make Believe
by bluster-squall
Summary: Cullen Rutherford's day job is all about helping people. On the side he helps even more people, stepping in for women in need of a date at social events to avoid embarrassment or put off unwanted attention. When young teacher, Nevena Trevelyan, is invited to spend Christmas and New Year with her estranged family she calls on Cullen's particular services.
1. The Arrangement

_Full Summary: Cullen Rutherford's day job is all about helping people. On the side he helps even more people, stepping in for women in need of a date at social events to avoid embarrassment or put off unwanted attention. When young teacher, Nevena Trevelyan, is invited to spend Christmas and New Year with her estranged family she calls on Cullen's particular services. There is nothing to make Cullen think it won't be like every other arrangement he's made._

 _As it is, neither of them have a clue what they're in for._

 _Thank you to my beta readers, razerathane, just-another-dalish-elf, and sakurasakes (all on tumblr)._

 _Rating to change in later chapters._

* * *

 _December 12th  
_

It all started with a letter.

A Christmas card, specifically. One which arrived on Nevena's doorstep on November 15th. It was one of the few yearly connections she had with her eldest sister. Every year a Christmas card would arrive before December, and every May she would get a birthday card.

Ineria was, if nothing else, predictable.

As in the years before, the picture on the front was of Ineria, her husband Josef, their three children, and their Labrador. The perfect little family, in front of their perfect, countryside, bed and breakfast, farm-guest house situated up in the mountains surrounded by snow.

Of course, Ineria had to be different in at least one way. The inside of the card never said "Merry Christmas" but always "Seasons Greetings". She didn't want to offend anyone after all.

When Nevena opened the envelope, she rolled her eyes at the picture on the front, and briefly skimmed the message inside.

 _"To Nevena,_

 _Season's Greetings_

 _Love Ineria, Josef, Matilda, Dante, Rowan, and Beau."_

Short, to the point, and lacking any emotional value. Typical. She was about to put it up on the shelf over the television when she realized there was more written inside the card, but on the opposite side of the card. Ineria's hand writing was always perfectly curved and spaced. Not a single mistake or crossing out. Compared to Nevena's own chicken scratch handwriting, it was like looking at a work of art.

 _"Dear Nevena,_

 _Sorry I haven't been in touch recently."_

If three years could be called recently.

 _"Things have been hectic with getting all the work done on the new cabins, and expanding the bed and breakfast to other lodges. We're all set to open them up in spring. It's very exciting!_

 _Josef is well, he's been working hard with the builders to get things done, while also getting some contracting work done from home! It's been wonderful to have him at home so much, helping with the B &B and with the kids. Speaking of, they're all fine. Matilda got the lead in her school musical - we're very proud! Dante is in the top set for his science and math classes, and Rowan is throwing himself into every sport at school. He's a natural at everything he turns his attention to!_

 _I don't know if you are aware, but it's Mum and Dad's sixtieth wedding anniversary this Christmas. Josef and I thought it would be fun for them to come and stay with us. Arienne and Clotilde will be here too with their families. I know we would love for you to come. You have to! It feels like years since we've seen or heard from you._

 _You will make it for the gathering, won't you? Everyone is staying with us. Christening the new cabins and lodges, as it were. It would be good to see you. Hear how you're doing. The date Mama and Papa were married was December 27th, in case you didn't know. We thought to have a long get together for a few weeks– from the 16th until the 5th of January. Really bring in Christmas and the New Year together as a family!_

 _Let me know and I can drop you an email with directions of how to get here by car. Hopefully you're not still driving that old beaten up Fiat. If so, I'm not sure if it will manage the trip and I'm sure Josef wouldn't mind picking you up and driving you._

 _If you could let me know ASAP if you're coming (and if you're bringing a plus one)._

 _Love, Ineria."_

Nevena read over the letter several times while pacing around her apartment. A gathering with her family was the last thing she wanted over the already stressful Christmas period. Seeing her sisters, their families, and being the odd one out _again_ was about as appealing as taking a bath with a thousand spiders crawling all over her. But it was her parents wedding anniversary, a big one too, and if she missed it she would never hear the end of it.

She put the card on the shelf and left it for several days, occasionally staring at it from her desk or the couch, willing herself to call Ineria and give an excuse as to why she would not be attending. And it had to be a good excuse. She had to make it _believable_. She couldn't just tell her sister that the thought of spending almost a month in the company of her, their other sisters, and their families, while being the only single and childless one of them made her want to scream and run for the hills. That would not fly.

Her tardiness in replying caused Ineria to call her on the 1st of December. Caught off guard, the conversation was short and to the point. Ineria smothered Nevena with words and guilt, because she didn't want to attend the Christmas gathering and celebrations. She talked over her endlessly until Nevena gave in and agreed.

Which was why she now found herself throwing clothes out of her drawers and wardrobe onto her bed, frantically packing three days before she was due to leave. Her best friend and former roommate, Roselyn, sat cross legged on Nevena's bed being as helpful as ever, narrowly avoiding shirts and jeans being tossed her way.

"Why did you agree if you don't want to go?"

"I don't know!" whined Nevena. "Ineria just has this ability to twist words. She plays the guilt card better than anyone. She went on and on about how I'd be disappointing our parents if I didn't show up."

"Do you want to go?"

"Eh..." Nevena shrugged. "I _would_ like to see my parents and celebrate their anniversary with them. And it's been ages since I saw my sisters..."

Roselyn quirked a fine brow. "But...?"

Nevena started folding a pair of jeans. "But..." She tossed the jeans into her suitcase with a deep sigh. "I don't want to be picked at and prodded."

"Picked at and prodded how?" Roselyn started to fold one of Nevena's jumpers. "Not literally, I hope."

"No. No. Not literally." Raking her fingers back through her hair, Nevena tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm the odd one out, y'know? And when I get together with my family, conversation inevitably turns to their families. How great their lives are, and how amazing their kids are." She huffed and looked at Roselyn. "And I'm... nearly thirty, still single, and childless. Yay."

Roselyn laughed, "Is that really so bad? This is the twenty-first century. Lots of women don't get married or have kids."

"In my family it is a bad thing," snorted Nevena. "Dad is very traditional. Women who work are a big taboo subject for him, the only reason he doesn't hate Ineria running the guest house is because it's mostly Josef who does it all. It's stupid. Arienne, Clotilde, and Ineria all met their husbands while they were at college. They all got married shortly after, and started popping out babies. They have their college diplomas more for show, than anything else."

"And you're the one who actually used their diploma, focused on a career and became a teacher."

"Not just that, but I'm trying to better my career."

"So you need a boyfriend."

"I don't _need_ one, no. But it would be nice to go to one of these things and not leave emotionally and mentally crippled by my sisters' and my parents' passive aggressive hinting." She sighed, "Why do you think I've avoided them for three years?"

"That's not the only reason, Nev." Roselyn treated her to a shrewd look.

"Yeah. Well..." Nevena shrugged uncomfortably. "That's a whole different issue."

Roselyn was quiet for a moment. She pursed her lips and stared down at her lap thoughtfully, while methodically folding another of Nevena's jumpers. Nevena let her think, silently turning her dilemma over and over in her head, her stomach heavy in her gut, tightly knotted. She would not eat for days while she worried over this; racking her brain for an excuse to get out of this extended stay with her family. Some disaster or something work related, but she was too panicked to think clearly.

The most viable solution she had come up with so far was setting fire to her apartment building and pretending she died in the flames. She wondered just how drastic that was, in the grand scheme of things.

"Okay, so..." Roselyn said, causing Nevena to squeak in surprise. Roselyn lifted her brows at her, but continued. "You might hate this idea, but hear me out."

"Hmmm?"

"Do you remember my friend Leliana?"

"Wait, you have friends other than me?!" Nevena dramatically gaped at her.

"Yes," Roselyn poked her tongue out. "Focus here, Nev."

"Alright, sorry." Nevena grinned and sat on the edge of her bed. "Leliana..." She mused, "Red hair. Accent. Right?"

"Ding-ding-ding. You are correct!" Roselyn tapped the end of Nevena's nose, making her laugh. "Well, about six months ago, she had to go to a big corporate dinner with her company. She'd been getting some unwanted attention from one of the female managers, so she wanted to put an end to it by taking a date."

"Okay..." Nevena lifted her brows. "I fail to see what this has to do with anything, but okay..."

"Patience, youngling, it will all become clear!" Roselyn tutted at her, wriggling on the duvet and growing excited. "She told me she met this guy through an ad online. She hired him to be her boyfriend for the night to put off her boss. And it _worked_."

"...He's like an escort?"

"I'm not sure," Roselyn shrugged. "I think there's a bit more to it than that, but in essence. You could hire him, and take him with you to this family gathering as your boyfriend. It might take the heat off you."

Nevena leaned back crossing her arms, "And he's legitimate? This is an actual business? He's not some gigolo or stripper or something?"

"Nope." Roselyn took her phone from her pocket. "Leliana gave me his number..." She started to slide her finger across the screen. "Here. His name is Cullen Rutherford. I could call him and arrange a meeting. No obligation to hire him, just a meeting to see what you think."

"Where? Not here. Not my apartment."

"Of course not!" Roselyn laughed. "How about the little café on the corner?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present!" Nevena tried to protest but Roselyn already had her phone to ear. "If he's free, that is." They waited only a few moments and then Roselyn beamed at Nevena. "Hi, is this Cullen Rutherford? ...Yeah. My name is Roselyn. I got your number from Leliana? I'm calling on behalf of a friend...her name? Nevena Trevelyan...yeah, sure, she's here."

 _"Nono- ROSE!"_ Nevena whispered, putting her hands out, as if to protect her from the phone Roselyn was shoving at her, and leaning away. Roselyn scowled, thrusting the phone more insistently at Nevena's face until the screen was almost against her nose. Nevena lurched backwards and tumbled off the edge of her bed to the floor. Roselyn barely concealed a guffaw reaching out to help Nevena to her feet. Reluctantly, Nevena wrapped her hand around the phone and put it to her ear.

 _"Hello?"_ The male voice on the other end was deep and rough, almost as if the owner was just awoken from sleep. He sounded irritated too. _"Look, if this is a prank -"_

"It's not!" Nevena blurted out. "Uhm, sorry. I dropped the phone when Roselyn handed it to me."

 _"That's fine,"_ the voice sighed. _"So, I take it I'm speaking to Nevena?"_

"Yeah."

 _"That's an unusual name."_

"There's a story behind it."

 _"I don't doubt it."_ He sounded less annoyed now. _"I assume you're calling because you need me to pretend to be a partner or something?"_

"Yeah. For a ...a family gathering over Christmas."

 _"Okay."_ He paused. Nevena could hear the sound of fabric brushing against something. _"I hate doing these things over the phone. Are you free to meet? Face-to-face? It'll give us a chance to see if we mesh."_

"You like to take charge, huh?"

Silence for a moment. _"So... about meeting?"_

"Oh. Yeah. I... I'm free. I guess." She bit her lip, trying to ignore Roselyn grinning at her. "Just packing. Uh... th-there's a café near my apartment. It's called Red Jenny's. Do you know it?"

 _"Yeah. I know it. I can meet you there in...an hour? How's that?"_

"An hour," Nevena glanced at the clock on the wall. "Y-yeah. Sure. One hour."

 _"Alright. See you shortly."_ He hung up before Nevena could ask how he would recognize her. Or how she would recognize him. She handed the phone back to Roselyn feeling numb, her tongue heavy in her dry mouth. Had that really just happened? Had she actually just arranged to meet a perfect stranger to discuss pretending to be in a relationship with him, just to get out of being the focus of ridicule and amusement for her family?

Her mind started racing. What if he was a convicted felon or he was rude? What if he tried to seduce one of her sisters or he started a fight with her parents? What if he was just plain _mean?_

"Give me the phone," Nevena reached for it, putting an end to whatever Roselyn was saying. "I have to cancel. I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," Roselyn said, as she slipped her phone into her back pocket. She got up, and grabbed a jacket and scarf from the back of Nevena's bedroom door, and then grabbed Nevena's wrist, almost pulling her through the apartment to the entrance hall. Nevena's body felt heavy and not like her own. Her limbs were numb and cold, and she was moving on autopilot. "Get down there now, get a drink, and a seat, and settle yourself."

"What about you?"

"I'm not going to hold your hand," Roselyn planted her hands on her hips. "If you get scared or he's creepy, text me, and I'll call with a fake emergency, but give him a chance. Leliana couldn't sing his praises high enough."

Nevena was out of her own front door, jacket over her arm, and keys in hand before she even realized it. She stared down at the keys before clenching her hand around them and steeling herself. She would go. Roselyn was right; she should, at the very least, give him a chance. There was no obligation after all, and she could turn him down immediately if she lost her nerve. Besides, if this is what he did for a living, then he was probably very professional and used to things not necessarily panning out.

It would be fine. There was nothing at all to worry about.

Red Jenny's was a small, independently owned place where Nevena often stopped in on her way to work. She liked its cozy and friendly atmosphere, and the fact that none of the drinks tasted like burnt dirt like in so many chain coffee shops). It was owned and run by Sera, a boisterous young woman who worked the front of the shop and was responsible for all the artwork on the walls, and the drawings on the sandwich board outside. Her wife, Dagna - affectionately referred to by Sera as Widdle - was the co-owner, and was responsible for keeping Sera's drawings as family friendly as possible.

Dagna was what some people would call scatterbrained. She was enthusiastic, kind, possessed a wild imagination, and had an impressive palette, which was how Red Jenny's kept in business and competed against more mainstream coffee houses. Dagna liked to experiment with different flavors, and enjoyed bringing chemistry into the kitchen, meaning many of Red Jenny's treats, cakes, and biscuits were special because of Dagna's extensive knowledge and endless experimentation. She was always trying something new, while keeping a handful of regular favorites for return customers.

When Nevena pushed the door open, the familiar ring of the bell brought Sera out from the office where she was tucked away. There were two other young women working who were in the process of clearing tables.

"Regular for you, Nev?" Sera asked, going immediately for a cardboard take-away mug.

"No, no," Nevena stepped up to the counter. The place was busy, filled with customers laden with bags full of presents and wrapping paper, catching their breath before taking on the shops again or going home. "Just a big hot chocolate for me. To have in, if that's okay?"

"Sure." Sera went about preparing it.

"Do you have any of those cupcakes iced like bees?"

"Widdle's just finishing a new batch now." Sera grinned. "Take a seat, I'll bring one over with you hot choccie, yeah?"

"Thanks." Nevena paid and moved out of the way of the counter to weigh up her seating options.

Sitting right at the front in the window was would give her a good view of the door, and also a quick escape route if she chickened out of this meeting. But it was drafty, and she didn't want to shiver and come across as afraid. There was a small table for two vacant in the middle of the café–another good place she could see the door. Not a good place for a quick exit, and other patrons could barricade her in. Towards the back of the shop, a group was just leaving a bigger table with deep leather couches on either side. Nevena considered it for a moment before realizing it was too casual and possibly too intimate. She didn't want to give this Cullen Rutherford the wrong idea.

After deciding on the table for two by the wall of the café, she hung her jacket on the back of her chair, and made herself as comfortable as possible.

Sera arrived with her hot chocolate and cupcake - the bee's face a grin and winking up at her - and Nevena was left to stew in her unease, her heart leaping into her throat every time the bell rang.

She could barely concentrate on the food and drink in front of her. She picked at her cupcake with her fingers, tearing away pieces of it, but not eating them. She tried not to look at the clock hanging over the counter, but her eyes continued to flicker to it, and every time she looked she hoped twenty minutes had come and gone, but the clock seemed frozen in place.

What was she doing?

This was completely insane. She knew she would not be this terrified if she were meeting a blind date, or a friend. And this was neither. She had no romantic intentions towards this man. She didn't know him. It was, at its heart, a business meeting. So why was her stomach turning? Why was her heart threatening to beat out of her chest? And why couldn't she get her breathing to slow down?

Her eyes watered from staring so long without blinking. She took a long breath and lifted her drink to her mouth to take a long swallow. The cup being the size of a soup bowl, it obscured Nevena's vision for a moment. In that moment, the bell tinkled its merry tinkle, signaling another customer.

As Nevena returned her cup to its saucer, she saw who it was.

A man. Tall. _Very_ tall. Much taller than her. He wore smart jeans, which were black and faded–clearly old and comfortable–and big, hard boots on his feet, more suitable for hiking than living in the city. Like most people, he wore a jacket, a parka, to keep out the cold and a scarf wrapped around his neck. He stood in line to order, staring up at the chalkboard over the counter at what was to offer. He had a defined profile: a strong jaw and chin, and a straight nose. His cheeks were covered in stubble, obviously kept trimmed. He was blond, and though he obviously tried to style his hair, there were a few fly away wisps betraying a natural wave or curl.

He must have felt her staring, because he turned his gaze and looked right at her. It was like a bolt of lightning shot out from her chest and down every limb, making her skin prickle and every hair stand on end. He offered a crooked smile, and when he did, Nevena noticed there was a distinct scar on his upper right lip, the crooked side of his mouth. She returned it weakly and then dropped her gaze down at the winking bee on her plate, feeling her cheeks burn.

 _Oh._

* * *

Cullen knew who his new possible client was before even introducing himself.

People did certain things when they were looking out for someone, or waiting to meet someone. Some people fidgeted, often with their clothes or with some object they had with them. Some read a book they had handy, or read the back of someone else's book, occasionally glancing at the door. In the age of technology many people sat with their phones out, texting or reading, and were only made aware of their company's arrival by them announcing themselves.

Then there were the nervous, anxious waiters. The people who didn't just fidget, but lacked the ability to sit still–always crossing and uncrossing their legs or winding their fingers around each other, and biting their lips. They were often the ones who stared at the door, ready to leap like a greyhound out of the gate as soon as their friend arrived.

This woman - Nevena Trevelyan - was a fidgeter, a lip biter, and a greyhound. She was examining him as closely as he was examining her.

She'd chosen an interesting spot to sit in. The middle of the café against a wall, blocked in by other customers. He would have chosen the window seat, but then with the door opening and closing it would have been cold.

Of course, from a voice and a few brief words, he had no mental image conjured of this woman whose friend had called him on her behalf. He tried to go into these things with an open mind, never knowing what or who was going to call on his company or skills.

Nevena Trevelyan was, at first glance, pretty. Not stunning, not a knock-out who would stop conversation in a room if she walked in, but pretty. Her blonde hair, more golden really, was a natural mess of waves and tangles, mostly left lose but for a braid over the crown of her head. She dressed casually; jeans, leather ankle boots, a jumper, and a scarf with bobbles dangling from the end. Cute, unfussy, and uncomplicated, all high-street, nothing designer. Not someone who put too much on appearances then. The jumper was too long for her though, he could see that by the way the sleeves almost completely covered her hands around her cup. Possibly an old item of clothing, then? Not someone who spent a lot of money on material things, or perhaps on themselves.

When he smiled at her, her reaction made him conceal a chuckle with his hand. The way her eyes widened, her cheeks bloomed, and how quickly she darted her eyes down and away from him. Yes, she was pretty. Pretty and bashful.

After paying for his order and taking his black coffee from the woman at the counter, he eased his way through the maze of chairs, people, shopping bags, and tables until he reached where she sat. Before he even set his drink down she leapt to her feet.

 _Maker_ , she was a skinny thing too. He could see, now that he was closer, that she was petite - maybe only _just_ brushing five foot three or four. The reason for her jumper being too long in the sleeves made sense suddenly, it was too big for her. She was looking at him, face flushed, eyes blazing.

Eyes. Now, her eyes were interesting. Big, almond shaped, slightly curved upwards at the outer corners. Brown? No, not brown. More like molten amber. Framed with long, dark lashes, and neatly cared for eyebrows. She wasn't particularly pale either, and he noticed the freckles littered across her cheeks and nose as she looked at him.

On a second, closer inspection, she was lovely. Beautiful, actually and Cullen quickly shut his mouth when he realised it was hanging open slightly and he was staring.

"Nevena…?"

"I'm sorry." She lifted her hands and stepped away, as if he had offended her. "This... this is a bad, terrible, awful mistake." She retreated, knocking into the chair behind her and the person sitting in it. She wobbled. On instinct Cullen grabbed her around the forearm to hold her steady. "This is..." She looked him up and down before shaking her head and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair.

"Hold on, hold on." Cullen put his coffee down, only too aware of the eyes of other customers on them both. "Take a breath." He stepped closer, still holding her forearm in a gentle grip. She looked like a breeze would knock her over she was so tense. "Just... relax for a second. You're clearly nervous."

"You think?" She gave a little breathless laugh. "Sorry. Sorry." She ran a hand down her face and made a soft grunting sound. "It's just... I mean no one would believe we were... that you were my..." She fumbled for the word 'boyfriend' or 'partner' like they were blasphemous.

Confused, but sensing she was a little calmer, Cullen released her and leaned his hands flat on the table, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, look at you!" She gestured to him. "You look like Michelangelo's _'David'_ just came to life. I mean, come on." Her laugh was frantic and growing in panic again. "No one in a million years would believe someone who looks like you would want to be with someone like me."

"Uhm..." Cullen wasn't completely sure what to make of this woman. This woman, who could not have been much younger than he was - and he was certain she was younger. In less than five minutes he had learned she was nervous, flighty, a fidget, prone to panic, and had an appalling sense of self-worth. "Okay, well," he sighed, "thank you for the compliment? But maybe, and I'm just making a suggestion here, but _maybe_ we could have a conversation before either of us makes that assumption."

He met her gaze. Her terrified, wide-eyed, and uncertain gaze. He watched it dart from him, to the door, and back again.

"You alright, Nev?" The voice behind him startled them both, and he glanced back to see the young woman who served him is coffee standing a few feet away, batting a rolling pin in her hand in a threatening manner. "Is he bothering you?"

Cullen rolled his eyes and returned his focus to Nevena. "You don't want your cupcake to go to waste, right?" He smiled, in what he hoped was a supportive and easy way.

"Uhm..." She looked down at the forlorn bee on the plate in the middle of the table. After a long breath, her shoulders dropped, relaxing just a little. "Sorry, Sera. E-everything's fine. I just..." she shook her head, "sorry."

Cullen stood straight, unaware that he had even been hunching. He watched the woman with the rolling pin - Sera - give him a dirty look, before returning behind the counter. She would be watching him like a hawk from now on.

After removing his outer jacket and his scarf, he sat, turned his coffee towards himself and poured what he considered the equivalent of two teaspoons of sugar into it from a decanter. Nevena twisted her fingers around each other, her eyes down and focused on them.

She looked like she was about to cry.

"Look -" he started.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, her words following in a rush. "I'm just nervous… and worked up. And I don't think I've slept more than three hours the last few days because I've been going over this trip in my head and -"

"Relax." He stared at her from across the small table. "You really need to relax. And stop apologizing. You haven't done anything wrong, and we're just talking." He smirked, "people do that, you know?"

"I know..." She smiled a little too– _c_ _ute smile_ – and tucked a stray tuft of hair around her ear. _Not pierced._ "I'm not usually this much of a mess."

"I believe you." He could sense her calming down and growing more at ease with him and the situation. Her nerves slowly dissipating. He pulled out his phone, and after entering the pass code, he tapped several icons until he had a note taking app open in front of him. "So I can put down anything important," he explained when he saw her looking, "but let's start with the basics. Name, age, that sort of thing."

"I feel like I'm on a speed date." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Life story in three minutes or less."

Cullen quirked a brow. "You've speed dated?"

"At the insistence of Roselyn." Nevena 's mouth quirked into a lop-sided smile. "I do a lot of things at her behest. She's always trying to push me to do something new. She was my roommate in college, and after that we lived together until she and her now-husband, Alistair, decided to get a place together about six years ago."

"You're close?"

"I guess." Nevena took a sip of her drink. "She's the kind of person I wish my sisters were."

"Huh..." Stirring his coffee, Cullen watched several bubbles form in the middle of the whirlpool and then pop. "But we're talking about you, not Roselyn."

"Right. I just -"

"You're good at deflecting." He prompted. "Don't like talking about yourself?"

"You moonlight as a lifestyle guru, too?"

"I have many talents."

"I don't doubt it." She grinned easily, bending an arm to rest her elbow on the table and her head on her fist. "Well, uh, my name is Nevena Trevelyan and I'm twenty-eight."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Where at?" Cullen took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. Too bitter. Needed more sugar.

"At uh, at Our Lady Andraste's. It's the big private school up on the hill."

Cullen poured more sugar into his mug. "I know it."

"I mostly work with kids with learning difficulties. Autism, Down's Syndrome, that sort of thing." She picked at her cupcake. "I'm actually doing an open university degree in child psychology in my meager spare time. It's taking forever."

"That's... impressive."

She shrugged. "What about you? Is this... being a rent-a-date a full time job?"

"Rent-a-date?" Cullen laughed at that, a deep rumbling chuckle that rose up from inside his chest and tumbled out of his mouth involuntarily. "That is... one way of putting it."

"What would you call it?" She leaned a little closer. Definitely more relaxed now.

"I have no idea. I provide a service," Cullen replied, leaning back in his chair. "And it's not a full time thing. Mostly just evenings or the occasional weekend. Honestly, it was a joke to begin with."

"What's the story behind it?"

"The abridged version," Cullen began, "is that around two years ago a friend of mine, Cassandra, needed me to pretend to be her partner because her _actual_ partner was out of town at the time. Someone was bothering her endlessly, and he had the wrong idea. She wanted to get him off her back I forget the gorey details. I was single, and I owed her a few favors so I agreed. Turned out I make a good fake boyfriend and it worked like a charm. She suggested I put an ad online, that she probably wasn't the only woman around who needed a fake something-or-other. Turns out she was right."

Nevena lifted a brow, mouth pulling to one side. "So, you get a lot of business?"

"I get a lot of _interest_. But I like to meet people in person before deciding. If there's chemistry there, then it's easy to pretend. If there's nothing, then there's no point doing it. People can tell." He explained.

"How does payment work?"

"That..." He laughed a little. "You won't believe me, but I don't charge. Or have rates."

"You're right, I don't believe you."

Cullen smirked down into his coffee. She had spirit when she was calm and not leaping at shadows. "With Cassandra, I did it for free because I owed her some favors. With other women, I've maintained a sense of 'pay me what you think my services are worth' kind of ethic."

"Wait..." Nevena leaned forward on the table. "So, they don't have to pay you anything?"

"If they think I did a bad job, no." He shrugged. "Honestly it works really well for me, and for them. And considering this isn't my full time job, it's just something I happen to do, if they don't pay me, it doesn't mean I can't eat or pay my bills for the month."

"What do you do for a full time job?"

"I work in sports and rehabilitation therapy. I do prep work for people training to get into the military or the police. Work with a few marathon runners too. My degree is in rehabilitation therapy so most of my work is for people learning to walk again, recovering from serious injuries, or military vets who are recovering from injuries they received during service."

"Wow." Nevena's eyes were wide. "That's amazing. You must make such a difference. What pushed you to pursue a career in that?"

"It just appealed." Cullen shrugged his shoulders and turned his mug around in his hands. "I also do a lot of fitness for myself. Swimming and fencing, mostly."

"Fencing?"

"Fencing." They fell into a beat of silence, before both smiling at the other and laughing. "Any other questions before we get back to you?"

"Oh, thousands!" Nevena rolled her eyes, "but I'll settle for your age, and how many... clients, I guess, you've had."

"I'm thirty-one." Cullen took a long gulp of his now luke-warm coffee. "And including Cassandra, probably... between fifteen to twenty." Nevena choked on her mouthful of cupcake, and just managed not to spray crumbs all over him by covering her lips with her hand. Cullen passed her a napkin while laughing. "I told you, this is just something I do on the side."

Nevena cleared her mouth of crumbs and drank from her almost empty cup. "Anyone I might know?"

"That's personal information. Can't share it."

"This might be an impertinent question but have any of these fake-boyfriend scenarios ever ended uhm..." she glanced up at the ceiling. "In... uhm... y'know..." Cullen could sense what she wanted to ask, it was the same question Leliana asked him.

"In sex?" He offered, smirking at the way her skin flared with color. "No. Never. It's a strict business only arrangement. Sex would make things messy. And I'm also not down for being paid for it."

"That... makes sense." Nevena nodded slowly.

Cullen made a face, grimacing at the cold coffee sliding down his throat. He had left it too long. Nevena quickly called over Sera from the counter and ordered another for him, and herself another hot chocolate. Sera brought them over with a complimentary bee cupcake, which she placed in front of him. The bee was frowning and there was a paper doily folded on the plate with the words _"I'm watching you"_ written on it in Sharpie. Cullen took it and folded it into his pocket.

"So, the reason you called." He prompted their discussion to get back on track. "Can you give me an overview?"

Nevena explained at length the details of her predicament, and Cullen made notes on his phone about things that were important or pertinent to the arrangement they might come to. Having this as something of a business arrangement meant he needed to know what he was getting into. And the more specifics he had, the more he could put into a contract that both he and his client signed so everything was above board. With his previous clients the contracts were small because the arrangement was for one night, if that. He had a feeling the one for this was going to be the length of a Bible, given it would be for almost a month.

He took down the names of Nevena's sisters and the details of their families. He also took down the names of her parents. He asked for more detail when necessary, the location of Ineria's bed and breakfast manor house, the length of time they would be staying, what he would be expected to do as a guest.

By the time Nevena had finished explaining things to him, he had filled almost three pages full of notes and little details about her, her family, and the situation over Christmas and New Years. Sera brought over another coffee for him, and a glass of water for Nevena as they moved onto another topic for their arrangement.

"Okay, so this is probably a kind of awkward question." Cullen began and arched his fingers so the tips touched. "But if we're going to present this whole... illusion of being a couple, we're going to have to _do_ things that couples do."

"Like what?"

Cullen shrugged his shoulders. "There's innocuous stuff, holding hands, hugs. Pretty basic and almost friendly, really. Then there're more intimate things, like kissing." He saw her eyes widen and she swallowed hard. "The reason I bring it up is because we'd need to agree on what was okay and what wasn't. What we're both comfortable with. In the past, I've never had to be quite this detailed, but considering this is going to be for a significant length of time... Better to get it out of the way now than for me to go in to kiss you while we're there, and you to go in for a hug and for us to crash somewhere in the middle."

"Makes sense..." Nevena murmured in a small voice, her cheeks a fetching pink. "I... I mean like... I like... holding hands. And stuff." She stared down at the table like a shy schoolgirl with her first crush. "At least I used to. It's... been a long time since anyone held my hand."

"Oh?" Cullen leaned forward in his chair. "How long?"

Nevena met his gaze with a slow, wry smile. "Long enough."

He waited a moment to see if she would elaborate. When she did not, he cleared his throat, straightened, and brushed the end of his nose with his thumb. "Well, holding hands and hugs are fine with me."

"I like hugs."

"What about kissing?" He could tell the way he spoke so plainly was surprising to her. What she failed to see was how he viewed this all as a business transaction. When he held her hand, he would be holding the hand of a client. When he kissed her, there would be no _real_ emotion behind it. It would all be for show.

"I guess kissing is fine," shrugged Nevena. "Just don't shove your tongue down my throat, or something."

Cullen laughed, "I'll try to resist the urge."

"So, does that mean we're... doing this?" she asked him, tilting her head to one side. "We 'mesh'?"

"I think so," Cullen agreed. "If you're happy to go ahead with this, I can be packed and ready to go on the 15th."

"Anything to stop my family from poking holes and making fun of me." A pause. "What about your job? Can you actually take time off? Commit to this?"

He smiled at how concerned she was. "I have a lot of holiday owed to me. We're over staffed anyway and we're closed for two weeks over Christmas and New Year."

"Oh. As long as you won't get in trouble then..." He watched her glance across the café at the clock above the counter. "I really should get back to Roselyn. I left her alone in my apartment three hours ago, and she's probably bored out of her mind."

"Alright." Cullen got up out of his seat when Nevena did. He still had half a coffee to finish so he would not leave yet. He watched Nevena slide her coat on over her arms and zip it up to her chest. "I've got your number, so if I need any more details before Friday, I'll text you."

"Okay."

"And you mentioned driving up there?"

"Yeah. My car is probably not the safest thing to drive on the motorway. We'd probably have to take the back roads."

"I can drive," offered Cullen. "Send me the directions your sister emailed you, and I'll put them in the sat nav so we're good to go."

"Will do," Nevena gave a small thumbs up. "Ineria will probably have arranged a big, fancy meal for my parent's anniversary. Nothing crazy, but definitely something where jeans wouldn't cut it." She glanced down at his legs and back up to his face. "Just saying."

"I'll pack something smart."

She huffed a breath, dropping her shoulders. "Okie dokie." After a beat, she stuck out her hand towards him. "I will see you on Friday, then."

Cullen clasped her hand and they shook once. He ignored the faint tingle on his flesh where their hands met. "Friday."

"Looking forward to it." Nevena offered a weak smile. She dropped his hand and he watched her leave, walking out into dark of the evening. Cullen retook his seat. He picked up his phone and started to skim through the information he had taken down while she was talking. There was so much there, so much he needed to know and memorize. He drank down what was left of his coffee in a few mouthfuls, kicked his chair out from the table, and grabbed his coat.

He had a lot of homework to do.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new long fic. Please, please let me know what you think in the comments below. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions, so please don't be shy. 3_


	2. A Contract

_16th December_

* * *

Cullen parked outside Nevena's apartment building. He texted to let her know he was there after switching off the engine. He quickly received a response telling him to come up. After pocketing his phone, got out of the car, and crossed the street to her apartment building. The building was not a purpose built block like so many in Denerim. It was once a family home that was converted into apartments when such large houses became unnecessary. Over the previous days Nevena told him she lived in the top most flat, a loft apartment.

They spoke regularly since their meeting at Red Jenny's. There was a lot to discuss and details they needed to rehearse in order for their relationship to seem real. With past clients, Cullen only ever needed the basics – an estimated length of time he and the client had been dating, and where they met often sufficed – with Nevena, given the length of time this façade would be in place, they needed to be thorough and perfect. From what Nevena told him, her sisters would pick up on any discrepancies, and she would be mortified if they discovered their relationship was a sham. Despite being curious, Cullen didn't inquire why. It was none of his business to begin with, and if Nevena wanted to tell him, she could in her own time.

Inside the bag slung over his shoulder, he carried with him the contract he spent the last three days painstakingly typing, adjusting, and rewording. It was, what he considered, perfect down to the last detail, and was a lot shorter than he anticipated. There was no small print, he spoke to Nevena while making the first draft and notified her of any changes. Everything was black and white, above board and they were both aware of the situation.

The arrangement was for a four-week ploy where they would act as a couple. They both agreed to hand holding, mild polite kissing - though Cullen wasn't sure what polite kissing was exactly, he expected Nevena would inform him. Sex was out of the question - as it was for all his clients - and Nevena was under no obligation to pay Cullen for his services if she felt he was unsatisfactory. It was all very clinical but necessary. He did not want to be caught in hot water, and the contracts always made the client feel more relaxed. And Cullen was of the impression that Nevena would need all the help she could get to feel relaxed.

He stopped outside her door, knocked, and waited. From inside he heard an upbeat tune come to an abrupt stop, swiftly followed by low muttering and footsteps.

"Just a second," Nevena called from inside. There were a few sounds of metal on metal, locks being fiddled with and chains being unlatched. Nevena opened the door and stood to one side. "Come on in." She was red cheeked; her hair a tousled mess, fluffier than Cullen remembered it. She was dressed in jeans, a long woolen jumper, and boots up to her knees. "I'm uh-" She quickly grabbed something off the floor as Cullen stepped over the threshold, "I'm just checking I have everything. Give me a minute."

"Take your time." Cullen closed the door behind him. "No rush, right?"

"Ha," her laughter was strained. "Yeah..." She turned quickly on one foot and practically frog marched herself into what he could only assume was her bedroom. He lingered in the open-plan living room, examining her living space.

It was a large space, probably bigger than his own apartment, and old. A lot of the features were clearly original to the house, and added a certain rustic touch to everything. It was painted throughout, mostly white, with the wall opposite the large bay windows painted a warm orange. The windows looked out onto a small balcony and over the city, letting in what cold grey light the December day offered.

There was a small kitchen, divided from the main room only by a folding screen. It was well stocked from what Cullen could see, with pots, pans, and other cooking implements. He wondered if they saw much use. The living area was clearly where Nevena spent most of her time given how lived in it looked with papers and letters strewn across a coffee table. Two white plush sofas were situated near each other, a two-seater and a three-seater. The cushions scattered over them were of a turquoise colour – Cullen noticed that there was a lot of turquoise; small items littered around to contrast the orange wall. There was a coffee table in between the sofas, and the main focus of the living area, a fire place with a beautiful ornamental mantle over it. A television hung above that.

Putting his bag down by the door, Cullen went to the fireplace. Across it were Christmas cards and dozens of photos in frames. Many were of Nevena with a woman with dark brunette hair, sometimes joined by a man with a straight nose and sandy-brown hair. The one photo out of place was almost tucked out of the way and to one side, partly obscured by a Christmas card. Nevena was in it with three other women and three men. The right edge was cut away leaving a mystery arm around Nevena's shoulders.

Cullen picked up the photograph to examine it.

He assumed the women were Nevena's sisters and looked them over closely. The one closest to the photograph taker looked to be the oldest. She had an angular face, a nose that was slightly tilted upwards, and rosy coloured skin. Her eyes, intelligent and shining in the photograph, were of a dark shade of green. Her neatly styled hair was a ruddy brown and looked about shoulder length. Beside her was a man, dark skinned, dark eyes, and black hair. There was stylish scruff across his cheeks, and the hint of a beard growing from his chin.

Next was another sister, her skin the same colour as the first's. Her face was rounder and did not look quite so severe. She had high cheekbones that brought attention to her most striking feature: startling blue-green eyes. Her hair was a more light brown than the first woman, but still not blonde like Nevena's. With her sat another man, pale and pasty with some kind of bump to his nose, possibly gained from it being broken in the past. His eyes were small, a little on the squinty side, but he had a genuine, if weak, smile. His mousey brown hair was already thinning though he was clearly trying to disguise it.

The third woman looked the closest to Nevena in age. Her face was round and plump, lingering hints of baby fat that refused to shift, her cheeks were a mottled red colour and her skin looked flushed. She had a kinder face than the other two, warm hazel eyes, pretty smile, and thick brown hair all tumbling around her shoulders - it appeared to reach down to her waist. With her was a third man, beaming at the camera with a well practiced smile. A businessman's smile. Around his eyes were wrinkles and there were heavy bags under his eyes. His teeth were a pristine white and perfectly straight - almost gleaming out of the photograph. His hair was cut short and scruffy, almost black in colour, while his eyes were a steel blue.

The last person in the photograph was Nevena. Tucked on to the end of the long couch they were crammed onto, she looked small and uncomfortable. Her smile looked less like a smile and more like a scream for help– even her eyes looked as though they were pleading. She was hunched over, hands hidden in the sleeves of her jumper. Cullen noticed that a hand - that of the person cut from the photograph - was on her thigh and squeezing so hard their fingertips were white.

The image made Cullen frown. He thought back to family photographs of him with his siblings and how they looked nothing like this one. They were often spontaneous, never posed. There was always energy. Here everyone looked stilted, stiff, and uncomfortable. He ran his thumb across the glass, his focus fixed on Nevena's expression of unease.

"Ready t-" Cullen started at Nevena's voice. "Uhm... Mr. Rutherford?" Her footsteps approached and he fumbled with the photograph. "What are you looking at?"

"Sorry." He handed her the picture when she stood at his side. He noticed she had managed to tame her hair, and it was now pulled into a messy bun with tendrils hanging down around her face. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No apology necessary. You didn't do any damage." Nevena smiled up at him and ran her fingers over the glass in the frame. "These are my sisters and their husbands. In case it wasn't obvious." She leaned across him to put the picture back in its place. "That's Ineria and Josef." She pointed to the first couple. "Ineria is... like, twelve years older than me, I think. She and Josef have been married for a looong time. He's a contractor. And then, this is Clotilde and Owen."

"Clotilde is a really ... _interesting_ name." Cullen remarked, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I mean, yours is interesting, but Clotilde is an _old_ name."

"We call her Cleo," Nevena shrugged. The collar of her jumper slipped off her shoulder and she quickly pulled it back into place. "Or Tilly. Rarely Clotilde. I think only Mum and Dad call her Clotilde."

"What does Owen do?"

Nevena snorted, "I have no idea. Last I checked he had quit his day job and was trying to 'find himself.' Some kind of spirituality guru, peddling homeopathy or something. He's never in a job for long."

"So this is Arienne?" Cullen indicated to the last couple, the woman with the kind face and the man with the business smile.

"Yes," Nevena nodded. "She's closest to me in age, but there's still seven years between us. Monty - Montague - is kind of slimy. He's always given me a weird vibe. But he loves Arienne, so that's all that really matters." Another shrug. "And then there's me."

They stood in silence for a few moments both staring at the photograph and not addressing the elephant in the room - the person cut out of the picture. Cullen wrestled with himself and the morbid curiosity welling up inside him. It was obviously someone of importance, someone who once held significance in Nevena's life or the life of her family. And given the body language, the hand on her thigh and the arm around her shoulder, probably someone she was once in a relationship with. One that ended badly. A person didn't cut someone out of a photograph when things ended amicably or it was mutual.

"You-"

"Ready to go?" Nevena cut him off and gasped. "Oh, sorry. What were you going to say?"

Cullen glanced between the photo and her. He brushed his thumb across his lip feeling the pucker of the scar under his thumb. It was a habit, one he did when he was thinking, according to his sister. He tutted and nodded at the photograph. "Who got cut out of it?"

There was an immediate change in Nevena at his question. The comfortable stance became completely still, her shoulders squared and Cullen was almost sure he heard her breath catch. He waited a few moments, his mouth going dry. Clearly his question was a question too far and he was stepping on sensitive ground.

"No one," Nevena replied with a controlled coolness to her tone. She sighed, and in doing so forced her shoulders to relax. "Ready to make a move?"

Cullen watched her cross from the fireplace to where she left her suitcase standing near the door. There was a coat and scarf draped over it and a laptop bag sitting next to the suitcase. She picked up the scarf and wound it around her neck while looking at him expectantly. He let out a long breath he was unaware he was holding and ruffled a hand through his hair turning his back on the fireplace and the photograph.

"Sure." He walked towards her. "Let me just give you this contract first."

"Oh, right." Nevena waited while Cullen removed a printed copy of the contract from his bag and handed it to her. It was four pages and all the main articles were itemized with bullet points. "Do I need to sign it or anything?" asked Nevena, skimming the first page.

"No. This is just for your records and reference." Explained Cullen. "I have one too, and the master copy is at home with the digital signature you provided for me. Everything is as we agreed upon."

Nevena sighed, "I'll keep this safe. I don't want any of my sisters to find it if they go snooping through my stuff."

"Would they?" Cullen queried, lifting a brow. "Go through your stuff, I mean?" The way Nevena looked at him from over the top of the paper gave him all the answer he required. Clearly it was something they would do, else she would not have said so. Hoisting his bag onto his shoulder he heard Nevena stifle a small chuckle. "What?"

"I like how 'no sex' is bold and underlined." The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "As if it needed to be reiterated."

Cullen gave a noncommittal grunt and shrugged. "No harm in making sure we both know where the boundaries are."

"Of course, I didn't mean-"

"Ready to go?" Interrupted Cullen, picking up her suitcase.

* * *

An hour on the road and Nevena found she still couldn't bring herself to relax. The radio was on; she and Cullen had made vague small talk about the traffic, the weather, and what they filled the rest of their week with for the first fifteen minutes before descending into uneasy silence. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and on the gear stick - never quite in time with the music. It was driving her a little crazy.

The traffic was clear for the most part, a few stops and starts on the way out of the city; but now they were on the motorway there were no jams or diversions and they were making good time. Nevena's phone was vibrating every ten to twenty minutes; Ineria was asking where they were and if they knew what they were doing.

Nevena only barely remembered her sister's bed and breakfast, having only stayed there the once several years ago. Back then it was just a large manor house with rooms set aside for guests, last minute holiday bookers, or those on a spur of the moment weekend getaway. According to Ineria's family updates - sent out like clockwork every six months - the bed and breakfast grew popular enough to warrant expansion. Now she and Josef ran Haven together, while their three children went to school in the small town nearby at the bottom of the Frostback Mountains.

Haven itself, according to the website, was a 'sprawling secret hideaway tucked at the bottom of the mountains'. It consisted of around twenty-eight acres of land, with twelve new cabins set in different areas and all connected by various roads and walkways. The manor house was still part of the business - half the house was now a family home and the other half was the business. It seemed to be flourishing, if the reviews and guest testimonials on the website were anything to go by, though Nevena was skeptical. It would not be beyond Ineria to ask her friends to give fake reviews.

Nevena glanced down at her phone as it vibrated again in her lap.

 _Ineria:_  
 _Where are you? x_

Slouching back in the passenger seat, Nevena ignored the message and tried to focus on other things– the music from the radio, the steady sound of wheels on tarmac, Cullen drumming his damn fingers to the music playing. Drumming them always _just_ out of time...

She jerked forward and reached for the radio switching it off before slumping back in the chair. She didn't look at Cullen - though she could feel him staring at her - and crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant teenager having a tantrum. Her face grew warm and she swore to herself she wasn't blushing for behaving so rudely.

"If you wanted to turn it off, all you had to do was ask," Cullen said after a minute or two of uncomfortable silence.

Maybe the radio and his out-of-time tapping were better.

"Sorry," said Nevena, glancing across at him from the corner of her eye. "I'm a little on edge."

"I noticed." He half-smirked and half-smiled. Nevena had yet to really see him smile. "We've got a good few hours before we get to your sister's place. Do you want to run over things again?"

"Sure," Nevena shrugged. 'Things' were the details they had agreed on over the past few days– little things like where they met, how long they had been dating, who made the first move. Little nit-picky things that Nevena was certain her sisters and parents would pester them about. Cullen was the one who decided everything, working in bits of his life and Nevena's own so they seemed entwined, and their meeting and their relationship would come across as natural, logical progression.

"We met?"

"At Roselyn and Alistair's engagement party, two years ago," Nevena said. "You knew Alistair from school and while you weren't close then, the two of you reconnected when you moved to Denerim and realized he lived there too."

"Okay," Cullen nodded. "And?"

"And we..." Nevena pursed her lips, staring wide-eyed at her distorted reflection in the windscreen. "We bumped into each other at the party, and exchanged numbers because Roselyn insisted we did. Neither of us called or texted for about six months, until we met each other again by accident at the movies. We'd both gone alone because it was one of those streamed-in-from-the-theatre performances."

"What was the play?"

She opened and then closed her mouth. "Oh. Crap. Uhm..."

"Come on, you know this," Cullen said, as he eased the car from one lane into the other.

"I know this," Nevena repeated. The answer was on her phone, but she needed to remember. "It was... I want to say an all male cast of 'Taming of the Shrew'."

"See, you knew," Cullen offered a brief crooked smile. "What happened after that?"

"We decided we had a good time, and started keeping in regular touch." Exhaling deeply, Nevena shifted in her seat. She wriggled her toes inside her boots and stretched her legs out as far as they would go in the foot well. "We've been dating around six months. I didn't say anything to my family because I wasn't sure if this was serious or not."

"Sounds about right." Cullen rubbed a hand over his chin, scratching briefly at his stubble. "Do you think that's enough to keep your family content?"

"I guess." She shrugged. "We'll have to see." They fell into silence again. Nevena's phone continued to vibrate. She shoved it in her satchel after the forth message arrived and vowed not to look at it again until they arrived at Haven.

"Why not turn it off?"

"Force of habit," Nevena huffed. "Can I ask you something?" She turned her head to look at Cullen more directly. It was probably the first time she had done so since getting in the car. He glanced at her from the corner of one eye and lifted an eyebrow, as if that was the sign she could ask her question. She noticed he had a nice, strong profile– she had noticed it in the café too, but closer up, it was clearer to her. Strong brow, strong, straight nose, square jaw, strong chin, attractively shaped lips… "How on Earth are you single?"

Cullen scoffed and almost seemed to choke on his laughter, " _That_ was your question?"

"No!" Nevena squeezed her eyes closed and pushed her face into her hands, mortified at herself for her moment of thoughtlessness. She would never ask him something so personal. "I mean, no. No! I don't want to know. I don't know why I said that!"

"Are you sure?" He was still chuckling.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Raking her fingers through the tendrils of hair loose around her forehead, Nevena growled softly. "I wanted to ask - _why_ are you doing this?" She fought past her embarrassment and the burning sensation in her face. "You said you've done it before for an evening or a day, but this is... this is practically a month. It's a huge commitment. I can't imagine that is something you would take on lightly."

"Maybe I like you," Cullen smirked. Nevena shrank down into her jumper and hid behind her scarf. She wanted the ground to open and swallow her up. Her lack of response seemed enough for Cullen to sober. He took a steadying breath, which helped the atmosphere in the car dissipate somewhat. "Honestly, I guess it's because I know how you feel."

Nevena's brow furrowed. She straightened and looked at him more directly again. "Oh?"

"I know how it feels to be the odd one out in your family." He looked at her for a second before focusing back on the road.

"Sure," she snorted.

"It's true," he protested. "I have two sisters and a brother. They all have lives, and families of their own. And while they are nowhere near as horrendous as your family sound - no offense intended - there are times when they pick at and make fun of my lack of a love life... I guess it's meant to be harmless but..." Cullen sighed. "I sympathize." He offered a genuinely kind look, his eyes warm. "If I can help save you from a month of being the target of your family's jibes and criticism by pretending that we're in a relationship, then I'm happy to do it."

"Oh..." Nevena leaned back in the car seat again. "Well... Thanks then. I guess." She clasped her hands between her thighs and stared out of the window at nothing. The air in the car was tense again, a little heavier than before.

"You're welcome." Cullen reached across and switched the radio back on.

* * *

 _Thank you to my beta readers, razerathane, just-another-dalish-elf, and sakurasakes._

 _And thank you guys for the amazing reaction and feedback on the first chapter. It's always nerve wracking to upload something entirely brand new, so the reception was amazing. Thank you so much! 3_

 _The update schedule for this will be a bit random - I'd like for every upload to be a surprise. But I'll do my best not to keep everyone waiting /too/ long between uploads._

 _Thanks again for an amazing response on the first chapter, I cannot tell you how grateful I was for such an amazing reaction! =3 I hope you've enjoyed this second chapter. Please, as always, let me know your thought_ s in the comments!


	3. The Sisters

_December 16th_

* * *

Haven was so visibly signed on the roads leading up to it that Cullen turned off the sat-nav and followed the posted directions. Every second that ticked by, Nevena felt herself grow more and more tense. Her stomach had fallen through the foot-well of the car some time ago, and now the muscles in her arms, legs, and face were going stiff, as though frozen.

Cullen turned the car around one bend and then followed the winding road along. Nevena recognised this part– though there were more trees and a thin layer of snow covering the ground, she recognised the road itself and the manor house in the distance. It was set amongst deep green fir trees, and along the road were lamps - currently unlit - which at night gave the whole road a rather haunting glow. At least that was what Nevena remembered. It had been years since she had visited Haven, and Ineria could have done more than just expand between Nevena's visits.

The manor house was an old, stately building and imposing on first glance. Three floors, with a sprawling basement kitchen and storage rooms in the attic, it loomed over the driveway and the car park outside. Ineria had kept many of the original features of the house: carved faces and gargoyles in the eaves, the pillars carved by the front door and the ornate sash windows. The door itself was updated from Nevena's memories. She remembered a dark brown door with black iron fittings, better suited for a castle than a guesthouse. Now it was a double door carved from oak with stained glass panes. On it hung a festive wreath decorated with baubles of red and gold, and sprigs of holly.

Where there had been one road leading to and from the house, now there were another two stretching off the main drive and winding back through the land around the house. Nevena assumed they were the roads to get to the other lodges, which were clearly set well away from the house. The closest building she could see was little more than a blip in the distance. Ineria mentioned having work done in her letter to Nevena, and true to form, hadn't done anything by half.

The radio went dead when Cullen cut the engine after parking. He sighed and leaned forward in his seat to look at the house through the windscreen.

"I don't know what I was expecting after looking at the website," he said after a moment. "Your sister does well for herself?"

"I guess." Nevena stared dead ahead at a plant in a terracotta pot looking in need of some upkeep. She dug her fingers into her chair. Her skin felt cold under her clothes and she was sure Cullen could tell she was trembling. She tried to breathe slowly through her nose, but it was like her brain had shut down and all she could focus on was the blind panic filling her senses. She wanted to climb into the driver's seat and turn the car around. Why was she putting herself through this again? Blood thudded in her ears, dulling her hearing until the thumping was all she could hear.

She doubted many other people ever had this reaction when going to see their family. Then again, she doubted those people were irrationally terrified of their family and of their opinions. Those people also probably didn't go to extreme lengths to avoid being the center of family jibes and jokes. Glancing down at her bag in the foot-well, she debating grabbing her phone and calling Roselyn. She would come and get her if Nevana asked.

Cullen touched her hand, making her jump. She had not realized he'd been moving and talking the whole time she was engulfed in her panic. Now he was on the passenger side of the car with the door open, squatting to be on her level. He took her hand in his, thumb rubbing across her knuckles in a calming gesture. He wore an expression of genuine concern, mouth pulled into a straight line. Nevena half noticed doing so made the scar on his lip stretch a little.

"Nevena," Cullen's voice was barely audible over the thundering in her ears. Nevena blinked hard. She swallowed, realizing her throat and mouth were both dry, and managed to unhook her fingers from the seat. "Take some slow breaths." Cullen inched forward and placed his free hand on Nevena's back as she lurched over to try and dangle her head between her legs. The seatbelt was still fastened and made it more of a challenge than it needed to be. He rubbed between her shoulder blades and down, repeating the pattern in such a way that Nevena could copy it with her breathing.

The thudding quieted and Nevena's muscles loosened somewhat. She unclipped her seatbelt as she leaned back exhaling shakily.

"Sorry. Minor freak-out." She tried to smile to reassure him, though it felt more like a grimace. Realizing he still had a hold of her hand she quickly slipped her hand out of his and into her lap. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Cullen still looked concerned and uneasy. The way his brows furrowed made a crease appear between them. Nevena caught herself when she felt the urge to smooth the wrinkle away and instead smoothed out her jeans. "Do you get panic attacks?"

"No," she shook her head. "And yes, I'm sure. Thank you... Ineria is probably watching from one of the windows. We should..." she glanced at the house, "go."

"Okay." Cullen stood up straight and backed away, giving Nevena room to get out of the car. She stretched her legs out in front of her for a moment before she climbed out.

"You don't need to hold my hand or anything if no one is around," she said and closed the car door.

Cullen arched a brow. "I'll keep that in mind."

They approached the house in silence, walking side by side. Nevena stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. Her skin was warm where Cullen had held it and she hated herself for feeling a small giddy flutter in her stomach when she realized he was holding her hand. It was for show. She would need to remind herself until it was drilled into her thick skull.

Cullen went to press the bell but the door swung open within milliseconds.

"Nevena!" Ineria threw her arms around Nevena's shoulders, smothering her in an uncomfortably tight hug. Nevena patted her sister's back, blowing Ineria's loose hair out of her face. The foyer of the house was lighter than Nevena remembered, but the two massive stair cases that led up to the second floor were much the same, just repainted and currently wreathed in tinsel and Christmas lights. There was a smell of something roasting and warm spices in the air. Ineria stepped back from Nevena but still held her shoulders. "You should have called me when you got close! I've been texting you for hours!" Her grip tightened a little and Nevena smiled through her wince.

"Phone died. I guess it didn't charge completely," she lied. Ineria lifted a fine brow. Even in the three or so years since Nevena had last seen her sister, little had changed. She still looked young, though there were a few more lines around her eyes than Nevena remembered and her hair was shorter and a different color. But her eyes were still sharp and intelligent, her nose long and narrow, her face angular, and the way she arched her brow and pursed her lips still made Nevena feel like a badly behaved schoolgirl being brought before the principle.

"And this is Cullen?" Ineria held her hand out to Cullen. Nevena felt a definite sense of relief as Ineria released her vice-like grip. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Nevena only told me she was bring a plus one three days ago." Nevena shot a small smile in return to the quick glare Ineria gave her.

"My fault entirely," Cullen smiled. He dropped Ineria's hand and his other arm wrapped around Nevena's waist, tucking her against his side. Nevena's cheeks flared hotly. "I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get the time off work. But I did, and now I'm here."

"So you are." Ineria looked him up and down with a shrewd expression. "Well, once you've done our little ritual, you can come in."

Nevena blanched. "Oh, come on Ineria. It's been a long trip an-"

"Ritual?" asked Cullen, looking between Nevena and Ineria.

Ineria pointed up at the doorframe. Nevena did not need to look up to know what she was pointing out: a sprig of mistletoe dangling over the door. A humiliating family tradition Ineria put in place when she and Josef first bought the manor house. Nevena had hated being forced to kiss her then-boyfriend in front of her sister back then, and now it would be so much worse.

"Mistletoe," remarked Cullen with a small shrug. "So, we don't get to come in unless we kiss?" he asked Ineria.

"Them's the rules!" Ineria was positively beaming and leaned against the doorframe as if barring their entry into the house.

"Ineria, this is completely archaic." Nevena turned her attention to Cullen. "We really don't have to do this. She's just being awkward."

"It's fine." Cullen gave Nevena no time to react, quickly dipping his head and pressing a peck to her lips. It lasted less than a second and caught Nevena so off guard that the touch of his lips to hers barely registered. But she felt the giddy flutter again and for a moment it was like she forgot how to breathe. "Totally painless." Cullen smirked at her and added a kiss to her forehead for good measure. "You'd think you didn't like kissing me," he chuckled and the smile that replaced the smirk was one she was certain could melt ice.

Nevena gave a strained little laugh which sounded more like pathetic mewl. He was so natural, did everything so easily and without batting an eye. Even as he moved his arm from around her waist away and linked their fingers together as Ineria stepped out of the way to allow them entry, it was done without a hiccup or a pause. Of course, this was probably normal for him. He probably faked kissing and holding hands with most of his clients. And that was all Nevena was: a client. She needed to keep that in mind. It was all fake. Nothing was real, and the flutter she felt was nothing but a base instinctual reaction.

Ineria chatted mindlessly while leading the way through the house. The retriever, Beau, trotted in from one of the other rooms, carrying with him a stuffed toy. Nevena glanced at the decor. The rooms were huge with high ceilings, and to keep them looking welcoming, Ineria had them decorated with warm, inviting colors. Each long window was lined with heavy drapes to combat the cold outside. Ineria led them into a room where two people were already seated and talking quietly. Even though Clotilde was draped in thick clothing, it was difficult to miss the way her clothes hugged her belly. Owen had a toddler napping on his shoulder.

"Nene!" Clotilde wrestled herself up off the deep couch. She slid around the coffee table and hugged Nevena more gently than Ineria had. "It's so good to see you!" She tucked Nevena's hair around her ear. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks," Nevena smiled awkwardly. "You do too. I didn't know you were pregnant again." Clotilde grinned and placed her hands over her belly, almost glowing with pride. Her cheeks were fuller than Nevena remembered and her hair was longer with an almost deep purple sheen in the light, but like Ineria, Clotilde was barely any different than Nevena recalled.

"Twenty eight weeks!" Clotilde said. "Liam is really looking forward to meeting his new brother or sister."

"You don't know what it is?" asked Nevena.

"We don't care," Owen interjected. "As long as they're healthy."

"Hi, Owen," Nevena gave a half-hearted wave and he nodded his head in return. In the years since she'd last seen him, Owen had grown a thin patchy beard as if to make up for his very bald head. He wore round glasses on the end of his nose and looked very thin. "This is Cullen," Nevena gestured to him waiting patiently at her side. "He's... uhm... He's my..." She puffed her cheeks out. "My-"

"-boyfriend." Cullen said it for her tossing her a glance. He reached out to shake first Clotilde's hand and then Owen's. "Though given how reluctant she's been to kiss me or say so, I'm not sure if that's the case?"

"Just nerves," Clotilde laughed. "Nene knows we're going to put you through your paces. Make sure you're good enough for our baby sister."

"Oh, sweet Maker..." Nevena groaned into the palms of her hands. Clotilde laughed again. Nevena turned to Ineria. "Where's Arienne and Monty? And Josef? And the kids?"

"The kids are at school. It's the last day of the semester so they'll be home soon. Josef is just finishing up a few bits at the office in town." Ineria counted off her fingers one-by-one. "Arienne and Monty are is running late. They had an appointment with their OBGYN last minute and the traffic is apparently the worst!"

"OBGYN?" repeated Nevena. "Arienne is pregnant too?"

Clotilde sat down. "About fifteen weeks, she told me." She tapped Nevena's belly with her finger. "Just you now, Nene."

"Ha," Nevena batted her sister's hand away. "Mum and dad?"

"Arriving tomorrow," Ineria said. "Dad's getting someone to drive them up."

"Fair enough." Nevena shrugged her shoulders and tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Ineria swayed from side-to-side waiting for conversation to begin again, while Clotilde was lovingly watching her son dozing on Owen's shoulder. Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the growing tension.

"Where are we staying?" he asked Ineria. "Is everyone in the big house…? Or, Nevena mentioned you expanded to lodges?"

"Oh yes!" Ineria snapped her fingers. "Follow me." She led Cullen and Nevena back through the lounge and reception rooms to the main foyer. A desk was tucked at one end – so out of the way it was hardly useful. Ineria opened a drawer and fished out a pair of keys. "I've put you two in the Skyhold lodge. They're all signed, so just follow the road around until you find it. It's a two minute drive tops." She put both keys in Cullen's hand. "Settle in, unpack, have a shower, and be back here for dinner at about eight?"

Cullen curled his fingers around the keys. "Sounds good. Thank you." He paused. "Shall I call you-"

"Oh, call me Ineria." She patted his arm. "We're practically family."

"Ineria." Cullen nodded. "Thank you." He went towards the door.

"See you tonight." Nevena waved as she followed and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Each cabin was set quite a distance apart from the others, making them feel secluded and private. 'Skyhold' was the third down one of the new roads; It was a rustic looking building, one floor with steps built into the earth leading up to the door. The exterior walls were stone and wood, giving it a homey and old-fashioned look. Inside was more modern. The door opened into an open-plan living area, furnished with a three-seater couch, a coffee table covered in booklets, and a television suspended on the wall. To one side was a small kitchenette and dining area, which backed onto a sliding door and a deck surrounded with wood railings. There were three other doors leading off the main room which led to what Nevena assumed were two bedrooms and a bathroom. Two bedrooms was good - at least it meant sleeping arrangements wouldn't be awkward.

Cullen closed the door behind him after letting Nevena in first. Nevena noticed a thermostat on the wall and unwound her scarf. She put her suitcase to one side and placed her satchel with it.

"This place looks bigger than my apartment," remarked Cullen

"Fancy," agreed Nevena. She slipped her jacket off her arms and moved a little further into the main room. "I assume all the cabins are like this one."

"Maybe." A pause. "Your sisters seem nice," Cullen said. He dusted some snow from his shoulders before beginning to unbutton his coat. "And that could have gone worse."

Nevena turned to him. "Yeah." She forced a smile. "A lot worse." She grabbed her satchel from the floor and went to one of the closed doors. All she had to do was survive for almost a month. She could manage that.

* * *

The manor house was a hive of activity as Cullen and Nevena arrived later that evening. Opening the front door, there was more noise than when Cullen and Nevena first arrived, and Ineria was quick to greet them and usher them through the lounge and into a large dining room towards the back of the house.

"Guests eat in the 'official' dining room on the other side of the house. This dining room is ours," explained Ineria. She was wearing an apron over a navy dress and high heels. Cullen felt underdressed in his jeans and jacket, and could tell Nevena was uncomfortably aware of their casual attire by the way she pulled at her sleeves. "Obviously Josef, myself, and the kids make the manor our home as well as guests. So we have the east wing of the house for us, our own bathrooms, bedrooms, lounge and so on. And the west wing, plus most of the upper floors are for guests."

Cullen offered his hand silently as they followed Ineria through the house. Nevena glanced at him before taking it and she fell into step with him. He was relieved. Their first few exchanges and attempts to make their charade plausible had not gone brilliantly. Nevena was underprepared for what being a fake couple really entailed. They would ease into it, and in a few days, things like hand-holding would be second nature. He wasn't sure about anything beyond that though–she had practically frozen up when he kissed her at the door.

The dining room was spacious, like most other rooms in the manor house. It had a high ceiling with an ornate chandelier hanging in the middle. Cullen thought it rather gaudy when he looked at it, but perhaps it was an original feature of the house. At one end of the room was a gas fireplace, with fake flames already emitting a pleasant warmth. On the opposing side were a pair of Welsh dressers made of beech. The shelves were all stacked with ornamental plates, glasses, picture frames, and trinkets. In the middle was a large table covered with a frilly white tablecloth and places already set took up the centre of the room.

The room was buzzing with conversation, which stopped only briefly when Ineria ushered Cullen and Nevena inside. The dog, Beau, trotted over and butted his head under Cullen's hand. He was quickly shooed away by a man Cullen recognized from the photo he saw in Nevena's apartment earlier.

"You must be Cullen!" he said, putting his hand out. "Josef Raimes. Good to meet you." He had a firm handshake and rough hands. "Sorry I wasn't here to greet you and Nevena when you arrived– work."

"Not to worry." Cullen dropped Josef's hand. "Ineria made us-"

"Nevvie!" A female voice trilled over the others. Cullen turned in time to see Nevena almost bowled over by a woman he could only assume to be Arienne from her appearance. "It's been so long!" she gushed, squeezing Nevena around the shoulders. "I missed you!"

"Hi Arienne..." Nevena shrank under her sister's embrace, and Cullen watched her gently try to push her sister off. Arienne stuck fast, her eyes watering.

"I thought you didn't like us anymore!"

"Ari." A man Cullen recognised as Arienne's husband Monty gently took her by the elbow. "Let Nevena go. You're over-exciting yourself."

"Sorry." Arienne released Nevena and sniffled. "Hormones." She dabbed her eyes for a moment before they shot to Cullen. "And you must be the mysterious boyfriend we've heard _nothing_ about!"

He smirked in Nevena's direction. "That would be me." He offered his hand. "Cullen Rutherford."

"Oh, no handshakes!" Arienne batted his hand away and Cullen went still as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "It's _so_ nice to meet you! This is _so_ exciting!"

"Uh, you too." Glancing at Nevena askance, he was surprised to see an amused expression on her face. Possibly the first genuine sign of amusement he'd witnessed from her that day. Arienne released him after an uncomfortably long hug, and only with prompting from Ineria. "You must be... Montague?" He turned to Arienne's husband.

"Monty, please." They shook hands. Unlike Josef, Monty's handshake was weak and his palm felt sweaty. Cullen wiped his hand on his jeans discreetly. "Ineria's brood has gone up to bed, but you'll probably meet them tomorrow."

"Brood?"

"Her kids." Monty led Cullen to one of the Welsh dressers. Cullen checked on Nevena as he followed and saw her being talked at by Arienne, who was gesturing wildly about something. After scanning the photographs lined up on the different shelves, Monty picked one up and handed it to Cullen.

In it were three children, a girl and two boys. The girl was clearly the oldest, her face a little less angular than Ineria's, but the hair and nose were the same. The two boys shared looks more in common with Josef. Their skin a bronze color, the both of them with dark eyes and heads of thick, untidy black hair. "Matilda, Dante, and Rowan." Monty pointed to them all. "Good kids."

Cullen vaguely heard Monty continue to talk, but his attention was fixed on another photograph. He put the one of the children back in its place and picked up the one that had caught his eye. It was the same photograph he'd seen in Nevena's house that morning. The same setting, same couch, same expression, same people… only now there was a difference. Where in Nevena's copy the last person was cut out, here he was not.

It was a man, as Cullen first assumed. A man with wide shoulders, fair skin, and short brown hair. His eyes were a piercing blue and what took Cullen's attention was that, unlike everyone else in the photograph who was smiling at the camera, this man was not only grimacing, but his attention was fixed on Nevena. His hand on her leg was not at all affectionate or even friendly. There was a sense of possession in his posture and how he was turned towards her, as if ready to sweep her away the moment the photo was taken.

"Ah, Nevena's ex." Monty pointed at the man in the photograph.

"Her... ex?" Cullen arched a brow and tried to sound nonchalant. "She... hasn't really talked to me about him."

"Rick. They broke up ... well, three years ago, I think. Or thereabouts." Monty rubbed his chin where there was a five o'clock shadow. "They were engaged."

"Oh." He stared at Rick in the photograph again, studying his body language. "I guess she'll tell me more when she's ready." He managed a small smile. "Would you mind grabbing me a drink?" He asked Monty, wanting a moment alone to gather himself. He and Nevena had not discussed her past relationships and it was something they probably should have. He was caught off guard now, and had no idea what he should say if someone asked him about it.

"Sure." Monty nodded. "Ineria has a massive wine cellar, but if that's not you-"

"Just water, thanks. I'll have wine with dinner."

"One water, coming up." Monty slipped away and Cullen watched him be drawn into conversation with Josef and Owen.

The photograph bothered him. It wasn't just the way it was so posed and static, it was the uncomfortable feeling he got just from looking at this man in the frame. He didn't even know him beyond his appearance and name, yet Cullen knew he would not want to meet him in a dark alley. He thought back to the morning and how uncomfortable Nevena was when he asked her about it. If they were engaged and the break up was messy, it's no wonder she did not want to talk about it.

"Hey," Nevena came up to his side, her cheeks flushed with color. "Sorry about that, Arienne could make small talk an Olympic sport."

"That's okay."

She puffed her cheeks out and sighed. "I spoke to Ineria about the cabin. Her first question was why we would need two bedrooms in the first place."

"Ah," Cullen ruffled a hand through his hair. "That's a good point." While their cabin was nice, they discovered that the three doors leading from the main room led to one large bedroom, a large bathroom, and a cloakroom. The bedroom contained one King sized bed, which left them in something of an awkward situation. Cullen was happy to take the couch, but Nevena insisted she would talk to Ineria about it.

"I managed to convince her we needed the extra space for clothes but, no dice. She says most of the other cabins are still having some work done before the official opening in the spring. And the others we _could_ stay in are taken by my sisters because they have baby facilities and stuff." She turned to face him, leaning her hip on the dresser. "So we're stuck."

"We'll figure it ou-"

"Why does she still have this picture?!" Nevena snatched the frame in Cullen's hand into her own and stared at the photograph hard. Cullen watched as her brows dropped low over her eyes and the color in her face drained a little. "I hate this photograph."

"Monty said that the guy beside you is your ex?"

"Yes."

Cullen considered for a moment, pursing his lips. "You were engaged?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his, blazing. A glimmer of anger crossed her face, replaced swiftly with uncertainty and discomfort. "A long time ago." She put the picture on the dresser face down. "It's ancient history."

"Nevena, we should-"

"We're meant to sit down. Dinner's ready." Without another look at either him or the photograph she left him standing at the dresser and went to the table where everyone was taking their seats. Cullen sighed. He gave the frame a last glance before going to join the others at the table.

Dinner passed without much incident. Cullen observed Nevena and her siblings all together for the first time, and realized something very quickly: Nevena was excellent at diverting attention. She did it expertly. Every time the topic turned to her, she was able to turn it into something about one of her sisters or their husbands, and the conversation was focused on them once more. She answered when she was spoken to, and the few times she spoke without being addressed first, she was quickly silenced and seemed to almost cower in on herself when bombarded by voices. Once or twice he was tempted to reach for her hand under the table to remind her he was there, that she wasn't alone, but he thought better of it. They really _didn't_ know each other well enough for something so casual, and to hold her hand without it being for show was not something he was sure she would appreciate.

So he kept his hands to himself, ate quietly, and tried to join in the conversation when he felt he could contribute. his family was loud and talked over each other, but Nevena's sisters went a mile a minute with conversation topics and gossip. Josef spoke very little, Owen added his own comments once in a while, but the biggest talker was Monty, and that was mostly to remind Arienne to not over-excite herself.

Cullen was relieved when he and Nevena left for the night, full of food but worn out. The silence of the winter night was wonderful after the hours of chatter and noise, and it was a relief to reach their cabin and to find it was just as quiet as outside.

Nevena hung her jacket up on the coat hooks by the cabin door. "You should take the bedroom." She stated, planting her hands on her hips as if doing so would convince him. "I'll take the couch." Cullen looked across at the extra blankets and pillows she pulled out of the cloakroom earlier all piled up at one end of the couch.

"I don't mind taking the couch. It's your family's place we're staying at, here."

"You're doing me a good turn by putting up with them. Take the bedroom."

"You're paying me," Cullen retorted. His crossed his arms in a challenge. "I'll take the couch."

"I'm smaller. I can fit on the couch easily. Plus I get up really early, so-"

"The couch is massive, I can fit fine. And I'm an early riser too."

"Stop being stubborn," Nevena's cheeks flushed. "You're taking the bedroom."

" _You_ stop being stubborn." Cullen reached into one of his pockets. "And we'll settle this the old fashioned way." He withdrew a coin, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "Coin toss."

Nevena snorted and shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "Fine. Heads: you get the bedroom. Tails: I get it."

"Fair enough." Cullen flipped the coin, watched it rise into the air and caught it on its way down. He pressed it onto the back of his hand. Before moving his hand ,he split his forefinger and middle finger enough that he could just make out the face of the coin. Heads. He tucked his thumb under his fingers and gently flipped the coin as he moved his hand away. "Tails." He showed Nevena. "Bedroom is yours."

He watched her expression go from shock, to annoyance, and then seamlessly into frustration. "Fine!" The way she puffed her cheeks out with indignation and huffed her hair out of her face was something Cullen refused to admit was kind of adorable. "If the coin says I take the bedroom, I guess I'll take the bedroom!" She turned on her heel and stomped through the main area towards it.

"Goodnight, Nevena." Cullen called. He received no reply but the door being firmly closed.

* * *

 _Thank you to my beta readers, razerathane, just-another-dalish-elf, thetimba and sakurasakes._

 _Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter three. I know these chapters are a shorter than those in 'What Lies Behind the Throne' but I thought shorter chapters might be easier to digest and swallow. I hope that's okay. Also, I know so far things are a bit slow. But these early chapters are lying the ground work. The meatier stuff will be coming soon. I promise! :p_

 _Thanks for your patience with uploads. As I said, I want to keep the schedule a bit loose, as I don't know what'll be happening in the future and it'll be a nice surprise. Rather than an expectation._

 _Thank you again for all the lovely comments and feedback on chapter 2! I am always so overwhelmed by the responses and comments._

 _Anyway, as always, I love reading your comments and I'll try to reply in a timely fashion! So please do, leave your thoughts and comments below and I'll see you in the next chapter. Lessthanthree._


	4. Parents

_December 17th_

* * *

Cullen woke to the smell of coffee and a woman softly humming. A memory stirred in the back of his mind and He fought not to open his eyes - the last time someone had been in his place humming and brewing coffee was... he banished the thought, opening his eyes. He knew where he was in an instant. Not in his apartment. The woman humming was a client and not a ghost of his past. There was nothing intimate about this situation. Cold light streamed in from one window where Nevena had opened the curtains, while the rest of the living area was still mostly in darkness.

The couch was more comfortable than Cullen first anticipated, and he was surprised he didn't have a sore neck or pain in his shoulders and back. It was narrow, but soft and deep and he'd slept well. Of course, there were some things even the deepest bed or most comfortable setting could never quite remedy - but that was his own problem. The nightmares and flashes only came twice during the night. They woke him, as they always did. But twice was better than the more usual three to five times.

He considered it a good night's sleep just for that.

Outside of his makeshift bed, the cabin was blissfully warm. So warm, in fact, Cullen realized he had kicked off half his blanket. Not that he would complain about being warm, as it appeared to be snowing or sleeting through the one uncovered window.

He stretched and yawned, a satisfied groan rumbling in his throat as his muscles contracted and relaxed. He sat up slowly rubbing his hands over his face and pushing his fingers through his hair.

"Good morning." Glancing around, he saw Nevena sitting at the table in the kitchen area, tablet in hand and a pot of coffee steaming in front of her. She was wearing glasses. "Coffee." She pointed at the pot. "Mugs." She pointed at a cabinet. "Sugar is over there." Her finger turned to another cupboard. "Milk in the fridge."

"I didn't know you wore glasses." Cullen said. He crossed to the kitchen and followed Nevena's directions to find a mug, after picking up an old sweatshirt from the floor and pulling it over his head and the t-shirt he slept in.

"Why would you?" Her tone was sharp as she looked up at him, blonde hair a tangled mess and half tucked into the grey hooded shirt she wore. "I wear contacts most of the time."

"I'm sorry for mentioning them?" Cullen sat. "I just think they're nice. They suit you." He poured the coffee into his mug and took a sip. The ceramic was warm between the palms of his hands. Nevena gave him a shrewd look. A look he was certain she used on students.

"Thanks," she said eventually. "I'm sorry for snapping."

"That's fine." He sipped his coffee. "How d-"

"Did yo-"

They both faltered and gave matching awkward laughs. He noticed Nevena's cheeks grow slightly pink and Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, diverting his gaze to the ceiling.

"How did you sleep?" asked Nevena after pausing for several seconds.

"Fine." He looked at her.

"Oh?" She arched a brow. "I thought I heard you talking in your sleep." Cullen's stomach turned but he controlled his expression to keep it still and impassive. "And I thought I heard you get up a couple of times." His stomach turned over again. He often did get up after waking. Pacing helped to clear his mind and to calm him down. It helped to relieve the stress and the adrenaline pulsing through him when he woke from the nightmares. He never considered it to be an issue before. But now... He would need to be more discreet. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he answered a little too quickly. "I used the bathroom. That's all." He felt Nevena staring at him, gauging him and drank deeply from his coffee until he was sure her eyes were no longer boring into him.

"Okay." She shrugged and the collar of her hooded top slipped off a slender shoulder. She left it like that. Her eyes were scanning back and forth on her tablet. She put her mug to her lips, and it hovered there for almost thirty seconds before she put it back on the table without taking a drink.

Cullen smirked a little, "Good read?"

Nevena lowered her tablet, "Sorry. It's getting to a good bit."

"What is it?"

"Don't laugh," Nevena prompted. Cullen leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. "It's called _'The Viper's Nest'_ by Varric Tethras. It's kind of terrible, but I love it."

"I know it," Cullen barely concealed a smirk. _I know the author._ "You've read it before?"

"Oh, hundreds of times," she smiled–big, genuine. Cullen noticed dimples in her cheeks and a crinkle in her nose. Her smile - her genuine smile - was one of her best features. "I used to have a veritable library in my apartment, but downsized a lot the last time I moved. My copy was falling apart and I wasn't able to find another physical copy since it went out of print." She put her tablet on the table. "I swear I was one of the first people to pay for and download it when it was officially released online." She sighed. "I'd love to have a hard copy again."

"No chance of it being re-released for publication?"

"Not likely," Nevena shrugged her shoulders. "Mr. Tethras is focusing more on his _'Hard in Hightown'_ series, and _'Swords and Shields'_. They're good... but I guess I have a special place in my heart for _'The Viper's Nest'_."

"At least you can read it on your tablet," offered Cullen. He tilted his head to one side. In doing so, a few strands of tousled, curly hair fell across his eyes. He noticed Nevena's half-smile at that, as he brushed them back into place. "What's the plan for today?" he asked, clearing his throat and leaning forward so his elbows rested on the table.

"My parents are arriving," Nevena said. She got to her feet and started to tidy up. Cullen noticed her pajama bottoms - teal and white striped, reminding him of toothpaste- hung low on her hips. "Ineria has been texting me since about six this morning telling me to dress nicely."

"Why?"

"Because she's Ineria," Nevena emptied the dregs of her coffee into the sink and rinsed the mug under the tap. "She likes things to be just so."

"That would drive me crazy," said Cullen following her example and taking his mug to the sink after draining the last few mouthfuls of coffee.

"Ineria drives everyone crazy," she sighed. Cullen watched as she leaned back against a counter top. Just talking about her sisters, he noticed she had become uneasy. As if what energy there was in her moments before was drained away. She raked the fingers of one hand through her hair and huffed. "After that, she's said something about us going into town. We can pick up some bits and pieces there for the cabin. Just snacks and some basics. She's assured me there's no set itinerary and after today we can do whatever we want. As long as we turn up for family activities, like decorating the Christmas tree, she says she's fine - but we'll see how long that lasts." She shifted her weight. "She did say she'll be making dinner every night if we want to eat at the house. Or we can cook for ourselves here." She looked at Cullen. "What do you think?"

"Going into town doesn't sound like a bad idea," he reasoned, scratching his chin. "We can pick up a few things and maybe see if there's anything around. Any points of interest worth looking at?"

"The nearest town is Edgehall, it's pretty small, but Redcliffe is about an hour's drive away and I know there're more things to do there."

"Well, there's no rush to investigate everything."

"True," Nevena sighed. "Okay, I'll text her and let her know we're up and moving. Give her an estimated time we'll be up at the house."

"Sure." Cullen considered if it would too forward for him to give her a gesture of support. A squeeze on her shoulder or her hand. She looked so very tired and reluctant. Nevena moved out of reach before he could act on his thoughts and she lifted her arms above her head.

"Shower time." She disappeared into the bedroom.

* * *

The manor house was full of energy when Cullen and Nevena arrived, a crackling energy that only seemed to grow worse as time drew on. Ineria bustled about, going room-to-room making sure everything was perfect and in place. She commented on people's attire, snapping left and right. At one point Cullen witnessed her escorting her children back to their rooms to change.

Arienne was a bundle of giggling, simmering, excited nerves. Monty spoke to her quietly in the lounge. Cullen could only assume Monty spent most of his time telling Arienne to calm down and to relax. She reminded Cullen of a nervous hound, always ready to bark or bite if someone moved too quickly. Clotilde and Owen were calmer, but there was still an element of unease about them. Clotilde repeatedly smoothed a tufted patch of her son's hair down, growing increasingly annoyed that it wouldn't remain in place. The toddler was whining and wriggling in the smart clothes his parents put him in. More than once, Cullen saw Owen drop to the child's height to talk to him. Josef was relaxed and followed Ineria around the house assuring her over and over everything was fine, though his comments fell on deaf ears.

Conversely, Nevena was the calmest of them all. She slouched on the arm of a sofa, checking the face of the grandfather clock in the foyer several times as if wishing for time to go quicker. She had opted for smart jeans, and a jumper. Ineria's face went almost purple when they turned up at the house in such casual clothing. Cullen felt underdressed. Ineria marched around high heels and a dark green dress with a black cardigan. Arienne and Clotilde were dressed similarly in knee-length, close cut dresses, their husbands in pressed trousers and dress shirts. Their attire better suited for the office than greeting family.

Cullen shifted his weight where he stood beside Nevena and the couch. He jiggled his hands in his pockets. "Why is everyone so..."

"On edge?" Nevena arched a brow when she looked at him. Her mouth curved into a wry smile. "You didn't cotton on to the surname, did you?"

"Trevelyan?" Cullen remarked, puzzled. "Not really. Should I know it?"

"My dad is Nevan Trevelyan," she paused, expression moving to one of expectation. Cullen shrugged. "You've never heard of him?"

Cullen's spine shivered uncomfortably and he was sure he felt the cold slither of sweat drip down his back. Suddenly he felt out of his depth. Though the name 'Trevelyan' did not ring any bells beyond it being Nevena's surname, the fact she believed he should have known or heard of her father or the name at least caused his stomach to coil. His throat closed a little and he struggled to swallow.

"Makes a change," Nevena snorted. "He developed some kind of processor years and years ago. It's used in practically every phone, tablet, computer, laptop... It's everywhere." She pursed her lips. "He's... Our family is..."

"You're wealthy."

" _He's_ wealthy," Nevena corrected. She met Cullen's gaze, a small bite to her smile. "Understand now why everyone is so on edge?" She stood and shifted close enough that their bodies were touching and Cullen was the only one who would hear her. "Where dad goes, so does his wallet," she whispered. "How do you think Ineria affords this place? Or my sisters manage their lifestyles without working?"

"I see," Cullen exhaled deeply. "So, do I need to grovel or...?"

Nevena laughed, "Don't you dare. I haven't asked my dad for a penny my entire life, and I don't intend to start now."

Somehow that knowledge caused Cullen to relax a little. He was not born into wealth. His family struggled to get by when he was a child and into his adult life. Even now he was frugal with his income and was not one for spoiling himself or buying something unless it was completely necessary. His friends called him a miser for it. Cullen simply considered it good sense. He believed money lost its value when it was given to you. The fact that Nevena had access to money, yet said she never asked for it - he considered that a positive thing.

"They're here!" Ineria almost bleated. Her cheeks were scarlet and the neat style she had put her hair up into was coming loose. "Everyone be on your best behavior. Oh, Maker. I hope everything is alright for them..."

Nevena slouched back on the arm of the sofa, a contrast to everyone else who stood to attention as soon as Ineria opened the front door. They looked like soldiers waiting for inspection from their commanding officer. Cullen's hands dangled by his sides and he was surprised when he felt Nevena's fingers slide into his palm and between his fingers. Thus far every intimate interaction was initated by him. He wondered if she was feeling more comfortable but did not say anything, rather he ran his thumb over her knuckles and tried to ignore how nice her hand felt in his. Not that he was particularly successful. Her hands were small and smooth, and her fingers slotted so easily between his it felt completely natural.

"Hi, Daddy," Ineria swept back from the front door to allow Josef in. He carried two large suitcases and two figures followed him in. "How was the trip up? Not too treacherous, I hope?"

"Fine, Ineria. Fine. Stop fussing." Nevan Trevelyan was a man well into his late-sixties or early-seventies - He was dressed in casual yet expensive-looking attire. Pressed beige trousers, and a maroon blazer over a white shirt. Ineria helped him remove his winter coat once he was inside. Despite his apparent age he stood straight and with no sign of feebleness to him. He was clearly fit and looked after himself but the years had taken their toll on his face. He did not have a warm or even remotely friendly face. It was stern, hard and weathered. He had a head of thick grey hair and a neatly trimmed moustache across his top lip.

Following him was a woman Cullen could only assume to be Nevena's mother. Cullen could see hints of Clotilde, Ineria, and Arienne in her face at just a glance. Her face was severe and angular. She was not an unattractive woman by any means, but she did not give Cullen the impression that she smiled much. Much of her appearance was down to the clothing she wore. Like Nevan, expensive, and cut to accentuate what remained of her frail figure.

He struggled not to compare Nevena's parents to his own. His mother was a kind woman, in face as well as personality. He remembered her as always laughing and always doing _something_. She never had a mean thing to say about anyone unless they deserved it. She did not always dress the best, but she always made the best of what she had. His father was the same. Warm and welcoming, a big personality that was inherited by Cullen's brother, Branson. Just from looking at them, his parents and Nevena's could not be any more different.

Nevan greeted everyone in turn, his wife too, making polite greetings to his daughters as though they were strangers and only ever shaking the hands of his son-in-laws, not hugging them. Their mother hugged, though they were brief and never lasted very long. Neither of them said anything to their grandchildren. Everyone parted once Nevan greeted them and Nevena slid off the arm of the sofa and stood straight. She dropped Cullen's hand and he saw her smile at her father.

"Hey, Dad." She hugged him and Cullen was surprised to see Nevan hug her back. Not a brief hug of politeness, but a hard, strong hug. Nevena was small against her father, practically buried into his chest until the embrace came to an end.

"I'm glad to see you," he said, holding her shoulders. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Just life." Nevena shrugged. She looked beyond him to her mother. "Hi, Mum."

"Nevena." Her mother offered a thin smile. "You're looking well." Nevena's mother did not move to hug her, unlike she had with her other daughters. Cullen sensed a deep seated strain between the two of them, possibily something Nevena's father was the cause of, given his treatment of her in comparison to her sisters.

"You too."

Cullen felt the gazes of the others in the room. Ineria's jaw was tightly clenched, contorting her expression a little. There was a tension in her shoulders too, the way she held herself was stiff and Cullen noticed her cheeks growing redder and redder. Clotilde was distracting herself with her son, an uneasy expression on her face and Arienne had her arms crossed and was frowning.

He snapped from his observations when Nevena took his hand again. "This is Cullen." She introduced him, primarily to Nevan. "Cullen, this is my dad, Nevan Trevelyan. And my mum, Katrin."

"Nice to meet you both." Cullen offered his hand and smiled. Up close he could see Nevan Trevelyan had a shrewd face, and his eyes were a dark brown, almost black and the warmth in his face disappeared in an instant. Katrin didn't move from her place a few paces behind her husband and Cullen's hand hung in the air unshaken.

"What's your angle?" Nevan bit out. "Another insipid gold digger, like the others." He glanced distastefully in the direction of Monty, the son-in-law closest to him. "Interested in the name only? In the money?"

"E-Excuse me?" Cullen dropped his hand.

"What's this one like?" Nevan turned to Nevena. "What was wrong with young Richard?"

"Dad," Nevena shook her head. "It's been three years." She looked weary again. "Let it go, please. I told you my reasons for-"

"What reasons!?" Nevan snapped. "He was my oldest friend's son. You were a perfect match."

"Dad..."

"With respect, I didn't know anything about your family or what money you might have until today." Cullen stated, his tone rough. "Nevena's been very guarded about it since the beginning. There's no ulterior motive for me being with her."

"I'm sure," Nevan sneered. He was a different person from the one who had hugged Nevena so tightlyand kindly mere moments ago. It was like a switch was suddenly flipped. "We'll see. You'll be asking for money just like the rest of them before the week is out."

"Nevan," Katrin snapped waspishly, "remember what the doctor said!"

"Bloody quack. What does he know!?" hissed Nevan. "Ordering unnecessary tests. Everyone trying to bleed me dry before my time is up. Money is all anyone cares about nowad-"

Ineria swept in between Cullen and Nevan. She slipped an arm around her father's shoulders tossing Nevena an irritated glance over her shoulder. "Don't get upset Daddy, you just got here." She maneuvered him through the reception and towards the stairs. "I've got your room all ready here in the house, I'll show you."

They disappeared up the stairs and the atmosphere in the reception room fizzled a little. Anger throbbed in Cullen's chest. Anger, at the insult thrown at him by a man he only just met. As if he would be with anyone for money. He was not that shallow, and even if the situation with Nevena were different - if it was real - her father's money and the family name wouldn't make a difference.

"Excuse me." He left the reception room and walked through the lounge to the dining room where he remembered there being a door leading out into the garden. The sleet had stopped before Cullen and Nevena arrived at the house, and it was now simply cold with a soft wind bringing the temperature even lower. The gardens of the house were sprawling and vast. The doors of the dining room led out onto an elevated patio lined with decorative stone walls. There were plants in pots dotted around, and a thin layer of frost on the grass.

Cullen pressed his hands to the stonework and breathed deep. His breath turned to steam with each exhale and he watched the steam vanish into the air. He let the cold of the stone seep into his hands until it almost hurt to keep them on the surface. His face was hot and he fought to control the anger streaming around his body.

He jumped when he heard the sliding doors close, though was not surprised to see Nevena was the one who closed them and how she now approached him. He turned his gaze out over the garden, brows low and a pain developing in his jaw where he clenched his teeth together. Nevena stood beside him and placed her hands on the stone just as he had done.

They stood in silence for more than a minute. Cullen kept his breathing deep to calm himself, determined not to be the one to speak first.

"I'm sorry about that," Nevena said. She tucked her hands inside the sleeves of her jumper

Cullen snorted, "it's not you who should be apologising."

"My dad..." She ran her hands over her face. "I have no excuses. I'm just sorry he said those things."

"Why?" snapped Cullen."Why did he? He's just met me!"

"I know, I know." She turned to face him. "You heard him. My ex, the one in that photo, was the son of his best friend. They've known each other since they were boys. When I broke things off... I think I caused in rift in their friendship that couldn't be repaired."

"So?"

"So..." Nevena gave an uncertain shrug. "He was attached. Really attached to Rick. I assume you noticed I have three sisters and no brothers? That my name is Nevena?"

"Yeah."

"My father was named after his father. _His_ father was named after _his_ father. There's been a Nevan in the Trevelyan family for generations. I got lumped with the name because of the lack of boys. Mum had a hysterectomy for her health, so no more kids, and my dad doesn't really like any of the men my sisters married... He'd probably only like them if _he_ got to choose them. I... I think Rick was the son my dad always wanted, and never got. When I broke it off... I guess my dad felt betrayed? Like he lost a son?" Nevena shook her head. "I don't know. He was attached to him. Far more than I was."

"So? What's that got to do with me?" asked Cullen. He felt calmer, though he was still brimming with adrenaline. He wanted to go for a run, or do something to let off the energy. "What was all that," he gestured to the house, "about?"

"My dad is... protective."

"Of you, or his money?" Cullen's words were more savage than he anticipated and he could see the shock on Nevena's face at his harshness. He was more emotional than he expected, too. He hadn't expected to react so strongly to his intentions and integrity being questioned so brutally.

"That's not fair," she said after a moment. Her brows furrowed and she squared her shoulders. "You don't know my dad. At all. You can't make that kind of judgment."

"Can't I?" he scoffed. "He just made almost the same exact judgment about me. That I'm here because your family has money. That really doesn't matter to me, _at all._ "

"I know."

"It wouldn't. Even if this was real."

"I know."

With a grunt of frustration Cullen raked his hands through his hair, pausing to scratch the back of his neck. He paced a few steps one way and then the other. Nevena's whole body was leaning on the stonework now. She appeared small and tired, weary. Looking at her, he felt annoyed at himself for getting angry.

"I can't explain fully why my dad reacted the way he did to you," Nevena said, breaking the silence. "He was attached to my ex, and it will take time for him to warm up to you - if he ever does. I just..." She lifted her eyes to meet his. "I wanted to apologize on his behalf. It wasn't fair what he said, and I'm sorry that he was so rude to you." She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand on his. "I'll leave you alone." He watched her turn and begin walking back towards the door.

Cullen huffed.

He turned his eyes out over the garden once more and stayed silent. Maybe this whole situation was more than he could handle. An evening pretending to be someone's partner or a day, that was easy. He thought he could do it with Nevena for a long period. It wouldn't be that hard. But now he had met her family, seen the chaos and the dysfunction for himself. He wasn't sure he could get through almost a full month putting up with them and continuing the pretense.

He knew he could leave - but that would be like leaving a lamb to the wolves. He was sure Nevena could defend herself, after all, she'd grown up with these people and was still alive, but witnessing her with them, even as briefly as he had already, something didn't feel right. It was too hard to put his finger on, but he knew if he left, if he told her that he couldn't fulfill the contract they agreed on, he would regret it. He would feel guilty for it.

"Nevena," Cullen caught up to her in three strides. She stopped and he took her hand - certain there were probably members of her family watching from the windows. "It's not your place to apologize for your dad's comments."

"I know. But-"

"I appreciate that you did."

She shrugged. "My family is ... difficult. I know that better than most."

"I'm getting that feeling." Cullen went to her side, still clasping her hand. "Are we going into town then?" He asked, wanting to clear the air and leave the tension behind.

"I think so. Shortly. Mum and Dad are staying at the house to unpack."

"Great," Cullen breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"I am sorry," Nevena said as he reached for the sliding door. "For what it's worth."

"I know." He opened the door. "Any more surprises I should know about?" he asked, looking at her with a wry smile.

"None that should crop up while we're here." Nevena shrugged and stepped past him into the house.

* * *

 _Hi guys!_

 _Thank you again for reading the previous chapter, and reading this one. I appreciate you doing so. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think in the comments._

 _See you soon for the next chapter! LessThanThree_


	5. Sisterly Protection

_December 17_ _th_ _, afternoon_

* * *

The town of Edgehall was a scenic, twenty minute drive away. The road gave views up to the Frostback Mountains and down to the valley in which the town was situated. Even from a distance it was possible to make out Christmas lights flickering on buildings. It was the town where Ineria's children went to school, and though small it was well populated and surprisingly busy. Over the years it had become something of a tourist town given how easy it was for visitors to take a ski lift or cable car up into the mountains to partake of the activities there.

It was mostly made up of hotels and family-run bed and breakfasts. There was a quaint, old fashioned pedestrianized high street with shops packed together on either side of a wide road. A small shopping center was undergoing some renovations, but was still accessible by three sets of doors.

It was a town that, in some ways, seemed almost untouched by modern culture. Nevena counted only two chain coffee houses as Cullen drove the car through the streets, following closely behind Ineria and Josef's people carrier. Many of the restaurants, cafés, and businesses were independently owned and seemed to do well for themselves given the bustle of the town and the number of people milling about.

As they drove, looking for a place to park, they passed a park lined with fir trees where Nevena saw a temporary ice rink was set up for the winter season. She was surprised to see so few people taking advantage of it - but given the way the weather was brighter now than it had been in the morning, she reasoned more people might be up on the mountains skiing.

Cullen parked up in a space across from the people carrier and turned off the engine. He and Nevena both waited for people to begin piling out of the larger car before either of them unfastened their seatbelts. There was still a certain coolness between them following her father's comments, and though she apologized and he accepted her apology, she had a feeling it would take an apology from Nevan himself for Cullen to truly relax.

She wanted to tell him not to hold his breath, that it wasn't worth getting worked up over. Her father was one of the most stubborn people she knew and he rarely apologized, if ever. A heat wave in winter was more likely than Nevan Trevelyan apologizing.

Cullen locked the car when they were both out and waited for Nevena's sisters to organize themselves. Ineria was staying up at the house to help Katrin and Nevan unpack, and Nevena felt a little calmer without her around. Of course, it meant she didn't know if Ineria was saying anything harmful about her to her parents, being vindictive or spreading falsehoods, but she would worry about that later.

"Nevvie!" Arienne linked her arm with Nevena's dragging her away from Cullen. Nevena stiffened for a moment, unused to the contact before she fell into step with Arienne. Ineria's youngest son, Dante, ran up to hold Nevena's hand and walked with her.

If Nevena would enjoy one thing about this time with her family, it would be catching up with her niece and nephews. They were the family members she missed the most. Matilda emailed her frequently from school, but it was not the same as seeing her. In the time since Nevena had last seen them, Matilda had grown to be almost her height - something Nevena was jealous off, given her niece was only twelve and had several years of growing still left to do. The baby fat that had lingered around Matilda's face was gone, leaving her with fine features and pretty hazel eyes. Rowan, now six, and Dante, now four, both looked more and more like Josef. They were rambunctious, energetic and always up to something. Rowan only seemed to stop when Josef told him to. Nevena noticed that morning how the two of them were the ones who played up when Ineria was telling them to change their clothes or stop fidgeting. Rowan was the ringleader, Dante copied his brother and Matilda was the quietest of the three.

"Did you see the skating rink?" Arienne asked, almost marching with Nevena down the street. Monty was on Arienne's other side, tapping furiously away at his phone. It seemed even though this was meant to be a break for everyone, Monty was still working.

"Yes." Nevena managed to wriggle her arm enough so Arienne's grip loosened. She glanced back to see Cullen a few paces behind them. He was glancing in shop windows as they walked past, but seemed alert and listening. Clotilde and Owen walked on Nevena's opposite side, going at Liam's toddler pace, and Josef had Rowan up on his shoulders. The boy was trying to reach for the Christmas lights dangling overhead on shop awnings and signposts.

"You should take Cullen skating!" Arienne told her. "Cleo and I can't go, obviously." She patted her belly. "But we could watch you."

"Maybe." Nevena held tighter to Dante's hand as they approached a road to cross. "I don't skate much anymore."

"Did you know she used to skate at a Championship level?" Arienne peered over her shoulder at Cullen. "Our Nevvie was very good!"

"Please don't call me Nevvie," Nevena muttered under her breath.

"I didn't know," Cullen's voice came from behind Nevena. She glanced back again to see him looking at her. Another thing about her life she probably should have mentioned before they entered into this arrangement. Another thing she would need to explain. Her stomach tightened at that thought. She would have to go into detail at some point, divulge to him all the details of her past and the reasons _why_ she continued to distance herself from her family for so long.

She dreaded that inevitable conversation.

She did not want him to know the reasons. She wanted to forget them, as she had been unsuccessfully trying to do for the last three years, but some things never went away. If he asked, she would tell him. Maybe. Eventually. If it was necessary. She hoped it wouldn't be, but she knew she was fooling herself. She would have to tell him.

"What else haven't you told him?" asked Clotilde with a smile that reminded Nevena of a snake about to strike. Nevena blanched. Of course, if Ineria wasn't around to make snide and passive aggressive comments, it fell to her second-in-command. It was disappointing to realize that her sisters really had not changed much since Nevena's childhood. She was still the black sheep of the family, still the odd one out. At least Arienne seemed too focused on herself to join in - though how long that would last, Nevena was not entirely certain. Eventually she would get bored of gushing about how great it was that she was pregnant and how excited she was. When she got bored, Nevena wasn't sure if Arienne would join forces with Ineria and Clotilde, or stay out of it. Arienne always _was_ the wild card and could be hard to read, even when they were younger she didn't always join in on tormenting Nevena. She didn't come to her aid or defense either, but she wasn't as bad as she could have been.

Nevena glanced at Clotilde. "It's never come up. There aren't any skating rinks in Denerim so..."

"So?" Clotilde pressed. "You could have told him and made a day trip somewhere. I'm sure there are ice rinks within driving distance."

"Okay, I get it." Nevena huffed suddenly irritated and weary. "I didn't tell Cullen I used to skate. Now he knows. Can we drop it, please?" Her face burned hot from her forehead to her neck. Her ears felt as though they were on fire underneath her hat and when Clotilde refused to drop her gaze, Nevena looked away submissively. "It's not like it matters anyway." She finally unlatched her arm from Arinne's grasp and walked off with Dante, following his tugging towards the window of an old fashioned sweet shop, with a decorative Father Christmas in the window.

Not caring if anyone – including her sisters - was watching, Nevena pressed her forehead to the glass, enjoying the cold surface on her hot skin. She closed her eyes, counted slowly in her head and breathed between each number. Anxiety flared in her chest. She hadn't considered the small innocuous things about her that her sisters might bring up. It seemed so foolish to get upset and angry about them mentioning the skating but it was a part of her life she once enjoyed that she was forced to give up. The last time she'd goneskating was before Dante was born. She still had a pair of skates in her closet at home. Occasionally she took them out and examined them. The blades needed sharpening, they were old and out of style, old. Not that she could bring herself to wear them again.

After allowing herself to feel the brief nostalgia of a time when she'd enjoyed herself and had things in her life which were _hers,_ she would put the skates away and ignore that feeling. She was an expert at ignoring a lot of things, even as they scratched at the back of her mind until they were almost too invasive to bear.

"I don't know how to skate," Cullen's voice was behind her and she saw his reflection, distorted a little in, the glass. "Maybe you could teach me at some point while we're here?" He offered a supportive smile, one Nevena just managed to return.

"Maybe." She turned to face him. "It's been a long time though. I don't know if I'll even be able to balance."

"I'm sure it's just like riding a bike," Cullen remarked, his smile broadening. "You _do_ know how to ride a bike?"

"Yes," Nevena treated him to a half-hearted withering look, her mouth pulling into a small smile. She appreciated his attempt to make light and make her smile – the only other people in her life who made the effort to do that were Roselyn and Alistair. "Who doesn't?"

"I don't!" Dante piped up, grabbing both Cullen and Nevena's attention He wiped his nose on his sleeve. Nevena grimaced and Cullen chuckled. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and gave it to Dante. He shoved it in his pocket, unused and sniffed loudly. "Can we go in, please?" He pointed to the shop door.

"Uh..." Nevena glanced around. She could see Clotilde and Owen peering into the window of a jewellery boutique. Arienne and Monty were chatting with Josef, the three of them meandering down the road with Rowan. Matilda's attention was taken by a street performer nearby. "Sure." She looked to Cullen. "Would you like to come with us?"

He looked inside through the window at the bustling bodies and shook his head. "I'll stay out here and wait for you."

"Okay." Nevena opened the door. A bell tinkled above her and Dante slipped out of her grasp, running inside and disappearing almost immediately in the throngs of people. "We won't be long." She followed him through the people trying to keep him in sight. The door closed behind her.

* * *

Cullen waited outside as he said he would. He stepped to one side to allow other people to look in and admire the festive decoration in the window and fished his phone out of his pocket. He had a handful of text messages from his friends and family. Nothing urgent and no missed calls. He replied to a message from his sister and another from a work colleague asking if he wanted to attend a Christmas Eve party. As he was typing, an email popped through.

 _Hey Curly,_

 _Been a while since I heard anything from you. How's life in the big city?_  
 _I can't believe I wrote that. That's as big a cliché as in one of my books. You don't have to answer. Kirkwall is still standing, I'm sure you're happy to hear. Cassandra says 'hi'. (Not really. She just kind of grunted when I said you emailed me. I think that means 'hello'.)_

 _That's enough small talk._

 _What's this favor I owe you? I thought we were square after that whole double or nothing drunk bet debacle a couple of years back when Josephine took you for literally everything you were wearing (don't deny it, I have the photographic evidence). Or did something else crop up that I forgot? That's more likely. I really need to get myself a PA._

 _\- Varric_

Cullen smirked at the email and read it again. If Varric was good for one thing, it was replying promptly to messages that weren't from his editor or publisher. Cullen sent his email barely two hours ago while waiting for everyone to organize themselves at the house before they left to come into town. If Varric was replying this quickly, he probably had a deadline he was trying to avoid.

He started to tap out a reply.

 _Varric,_

 _Burn the photos. Delete them. I don't care how; just make sure they never see the light of day. Mentioning_ _ **that**_ _event in an email is still mentioning it. And we agreed not to. For all our sakes._

 _About this favor. Think you could squeeze in few minutes for me on Skype at some point? Between dodging your editor and deadlines._

 _\- Cullen_

 _PS. Grunt_ _'_ _hello_ _' at Cassandra too for me._

"What are you smiling at?" Cullen pressed a button so the screen of his phone went blank after sending his reply. Clotilde was at his side, a disarmingly sweet smile on her face. His interactions with Nevena's family so far were minimal. From meeting her the day before, Clotilde seemed a nice enough woman and happy in herself. Still, following on from the morning and Nevena's general demeanor when around her sisters, Cullen was determined to tread carefully.

"Sorry." He pocketed his phone. "Just an email."

"From?"

"A... friend." Cullen tilted a brow, uncertain as to why Clotilde inquired as to who the email was from. "An invite for to a get together on New Year's Eve. Obviously, I refused, given I'll be here."

Clotilde looked at him shrewdly, a look that matched the one Ineria had given him the day before when she answered the door and looked him up and down. If anyone ever doubted the two were related, all they would need to do is ask them both to make the expression. The similarities were uncanny. The way it pulled Clotilde's face in made her look harsher and sharpened some of the roundness of her face. "A male friend? Female friend?"

"Male," Cullen replied sharply. "What are you implying?"

"Nothing." Her eyes went wide with a look of innocence and insult that struck Cullen as very practiced. "I'm not implying anything. Just looking out for my sister."

"Right."

"We don't know you, Cullen. And Nevena is an important member of our family," Clotilde said with a smile that was less than genuine. "We protect our own."

 _Except from each other,_ Cullen wanted to say. Almost said. The words stuffed themselves onto his tongue and he had to fight the urge to let them out. He didn't have the knowledge or the grounds to say something insulting or cutting like that. Even if just watching Nevena interact with her sisters was enough to make him sure he was right, he couldn't in good conscience say it… but he could certainly _think_ it.

"You have nothing to protect her from," said Cullen, controlling the tone of his voice to remain cordial. "I have no intention of hurting her." That was true. Even though their arrangement was a contract, she was a client, and there was nothing there, he was not about to do anything to humiliate or hurt her in what was already a difficult situation.

"That's good," Clotilde's expression slipped into a saccharine sweet smile. They stood in silence for a few moments. Cullen glanced around through the people passing by, trying to see if he could spot any of Nevena's other relatives. The faces all meshed together for him, and apart from Clotilde, he could not spot anyone else. "How did you two meet anyway?" asked Clotilde. "Nevena hasn't said."

"You never asked," Cullen replied bitingly. "Well, you started to ask at dinner last night, but when Nevena answered you lost interest."

There was an instant where Cullen saw shock flicker across Clotilde's face. Her eyes widened and he was sure he saw color flood her cheeks. She stared at him, as anger covered the shock. She was poorly forcing herself to keep it under wraps. Judging from her expression, Cullen doubted anyone ever called any one of Nevena's sisters out on their treatment towards her. It was a good feeling to know he had. If he was going to spend the next few weeks with these people, he was going to try and step in and call them out when he could.

The instant passed and Clotilde schooled her expression to cool interest. "Well, I'm asking you now," she said with an enigmatic smile. "Where did you meet?"

"At a party her friend Roselyn was throwing."

"Roselyn?" Clotilde repeated. "She's still friends with... with _her?_ "

Cullen quirked a brow, "What's wrong with Roselyn? She's very amiable. She and Nevena are close." He assumed they were at least. He got the feeling they were from the way Nevena spoke about Roselyn when they first met.

"Roselyn is an interfering busy body," she said sharply. "She _had_ to stick her nose in when Nevena and Rick were going through their break up. I'm sure they would have patched things up if she'd just stayed out of it!"

"I don't know." A pause and Cullen brushed his thumb over the puckered skin of his scar. He glanced across the street where he could see Rowan's head peeking over the top of the passersby from where he was sitting on his father's shoulders. "From what I understand, Roselyn is the closest friend Nevena has." Another assumption, but one he was sure he was right in making. "I don't think she would have stepped in unless she was doing it for a good reason."

"What do you know about Rick?" Clotilde spoke to Cullen but her eyes were elsewhere, looking around the people walking down the high street. "Has Nevena told you anything?"

"No, it's her business. She'll tell me when she wants to, when she feels _ready_ to."

"It's a _fascinating_ story," she smirked. "Completely _fantastic._ If it was in a book, it would be a riveting read." She looked at Cullen. "You should ask her about it."

"Why is everyone in your family so fixated on her ex?" The question left Cullen's mouth before he could stop it, and it was one he'd been wanting to ask since the day before. Seeing Nevena's reaction to the photograph that still contained him was enough to pique his interest. Her father's reaction that morning, and now Clotilde's comments were causing his curiosity to brim over. "What, was he some kind of genius? A new age thinker?"

"He was practically family," Clotilde snapped. "She was selfish when she ended it. Didn't think of us. Just herself."

"Forgive me, but shouldn't her happiness with her relationship and her _life_ matter more than yours?"

When Clotilde looked at him, it was a look of condescension and it made Cullen bristle. "That's cute. Quaint." She patted his arm, adding to her patronizing manner. "He was gift-wrapped for her, or as good as, and he spoiled her rotten. She was ungrateful. And worse, she started to spread vindictive rumors and slander him afterwards."

"Nevena did?" Cullen crossed his arms. "That Nevena, in there?" He pointed into the shop. "The one who jumps at loud noises and apologizes just for breathing?"

"Oh, she has her claws in you very deep, doesn't she?" Clotilde smiled at him. "It's a good act, no doubt about it. She's probably a better actress than Ineria ever tried to be in school. But she'll show her true colors eventually."

"I..." Cullen wanted to laugh. He wasn't sure if Clotilde was serious or if this was just some kind of twisted hazing. As if by saying these poisonous things, it would prompt him into believing her. Or questioning her further. Or she hoped it would cause him to make a scene and confront Nevena. He was curious, there was no doubt about it. The more people mentioned this mysterious Rick, the more Cullen wanted to know. There was clearly some deep-seated issue surrounding him and whatever reason Nevena gave for ending things. But Cullen wasn't about to press for information from Clotilde. He wouldn't seek information from anyone except Nevena, and even then only if she offered it to him. He caught the things he wanted to say and held them back. Instead he took a breath to settle the tightness in his chest and reconsidered.

"Why are you telling me these things, Clotilde?" he asked, turning on a friendly smile and relaxed tone of voice. "Are you hoping saying these things will cause me to confront Nevena? Or make a fuss in public? You want me to humiliate her?"

"I don't know what you mean," Clotilde's smile was just as aimiable, warm, and false as his own. "I'm giving you some friendly advice, as someone who was there when Nevena became a member of the family and watched her grow up."

"And I'm sure you had a deft hand in molding her into the woman she is today," he continued to smile, his cheeks beginning to ache. "If this is how you _'look out'_ for your sister, I would hate to see how you deal with your enemies."

"I am -"

"Not in a position to tell me anything about her. She hasn't seen you in three years. So, thank you for your friendly warning - but I'll take my chances." He nodded to Clotilde, stiff but polite. "Excuse me." He left her standing as he pulled the door to the sweet shop open. It was bustling and noisy inside, but anywhere was better than out there with someone as spiteful and vicious as Clotilde.

* * *

The late-evening news was winding down, and Cullen was waiting for the next day forecast so he could get an idea of what things he might be able to do tomorrow. The trip into Edgehall had been successful and now he and Nevena had the cupboards in the kitchen stocked with bits and pieces they could use for cooking meals and snacking. He sat on the couch, legs sprawled out in front of him, while Nevena was curled up at the opposite end, already changed into her pajama bottoms and the same hooded shirt from the morning. She had a mug between her hands and her glasses on, though her attention was drawn to the tablet on her knees.

On the drive back to Skyhold and during the dinner Cullen cooked, they had made casual small talk, more comfortable alone together than the day before. He hadn't mentioned the comments Clotilde made, uncertain as to how to approach the topic. So far, Nevena's only reaction when it came to talking about Rick had been negative. Clearly it was a difficult and sensitive subject for her, but he needed to know details. Even if they were the most mundane details, just _something_ so if Rick came up in conversation again - and Cullen had a distinct feeling he would - he would have _some_ information at his disposal.

Adverts popped up on screen and Cullen muted the television. He glanced across at her, this woman who was putting herself through her own personal Hell, and found himself wondering _why_. His parents had always told him not to speak ill of people if he could help it, but the Trevelyan family were simply not nice - at least with what he knew of them so far. Perhaps, when the sisters were alone, they were nice people. But together in a gang, as they were now, they were like a pack of wolves. He knew there must have been a reason for their disdain towards Nevena beyond sibling jealousy and rivalry, but _what?_

There was the mysterious ex, of course. He had Clotilde, Nevena and Nevan Trevelyan confirming that Rick was almost family. Nevena had called him _'the son her father always wanted'_. Maybe there was a time that he had been close to the family and almost _was_ family, but breakups happened every day. Cullen found it astounding and immensely infuriating that her family chose to side with Nevena's ex, rather than their actual sister or daughter. She seemed to be a pariah for having done something for herself. It wasn't fair.

"What's on your mind?"

Cullen blinked hard. He practically felt himself falling back into the room as his gaze shifted from staring at nothing in the middle distance to focus in on Nevena. "What?"

"You muted the television and just... stared into nothing." Nevena unfurled her legs from beneath her and placed her tablet on the coffee table. "What's on your mind?" She stretched her arms out towards him, wriggled her fingers and gave a satisfied little groan when her muscles relaxed.

"Why should anything be on my mind?" He gathered soiled plates from the table then stood. He crossed to the kitchen area, placed them in the sink, ran the tap and began to clean up, entirely aware of Nevena watching his every move.

"You were talking to Clotilde for a while." Cullen glanced back to see Nevena leaning up over the back of the couch. It was amazing to Cullen how different she was when she was relaxed and there were no sisters. Even now, she came across as more playful. The tone of her voice was lighter and there was no tension in the way she held herself. "Did you talk about anything interesting?"

"No."

"Just me?" The mug in his hand slipped into the soapy water and clunked on the bottom of the sink. He looked across at her and noticed the wry smile on her lips. "It's okay. I knew she would talk to you about me. Either her or Ineria." He watched Nevena climb off the sofa.

"Not Arienne?"

"Eh," Nevena shrugged. "Arienne is a bit of a wildcard. Sometimes she's on their team, sometimes she's on mine." A pause. "And then sometimes she's Estwatch."

Cullen stared at her, confused. "Estwatch?" he said. "What does Estwatch have to do with anything?"

"Estwatch is an impartial party. Never gets involved with wars or politics. Somehow avoids being dragged into conflict, even though its neighboring countries might be undergoing radical changes." Nevena came to his side and leaned against the counter. "Arienne is sometimes Estwatch, even when we were kids."

"I see." He continued to wash the crockery and stack it, surprised when Nevena picked up a dishtowel and began to dry each piece as he set it aside. It was relaxed, almost domestic how easy and comfortable it was to fall into something so mundane. He was used to cleaning up after himself rather than letting things pile up. For all that it was something so simple, it was actually _nice_ to have the company while doing such a dull task. A few times she splashed water on clean objects so he would have to clean them again. He retaliated by flicking water off his fingers tips into her face. Her nose crinkled and her expression lit up when she laughed.

"Can I ask you something?" Cullen said, after a long period of comfortable silence.

"Mhm-hm." Nevena rocked onto the balls and heels of her feet with the regularity of the metronome.

"It's about your ex."

She stopped. "Okay." She gently put the plate she was drying to one side and placed the cloth on the counter. She faced him, expression hard and steady. "What do you want to know?"

"Just..." Cullen dried his hands, crossed his arms and faced her, leaning his hip against the work surface. "Why is your family so attached to him? What happened? They act like he was Maker-sent."

Nevena smirked to herself and laughed softly through her nose. She pushed her fingers through her hair before she straightened up. "They thought he was perfect. He could do no wrong in their eyes. He was the perfect gentleman, at least in their fantasy. They loved the person he presented to them. The man they met maybe two or three times a year.."

"Oh..."

"The person he actually was... was very different."

"I see." Cullen rubbed the scar of his lip. The hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably and his stomach grew strangely heavy in his gut. As if the meal he had consumed had turned to lead. "So..."

"They adored him. Adored him more than I did, that's for sure." Nevena's lips quirked to one side. "And the break up was messy." She peered up at him through messy locks of hair. "Like, nuclear fallout messy." She mimicked the sound of an explosion and gestured what Cullen assumed was meant to be a mushroom cloud.

Cullen chuckled, "That's pretty messy."

"Yeah..." Nevena trailed. Her smile weakened and she pushed both hands through her hair, brushing her fingers through until it was less tangled. She left her hands to rest on her shoulders, palms down. "They've never quite forgiven me for ending things with him. It was over three years ago, and they _still_ ask about him in phone calls and emails. As if I would be in touch with him after-"

"After...?"

Time froze for a moment and Nevena's eyes locked with his. He saw uncertainty, rising panic, almost terror - as if concerned that just talking about this man would somehow summon him. She had let her guard down too much and he could practically see her putting the walls back up as high as they could possibly go. Protecting herself. She _had_ to protect herself.

"Nothing." She shook her head and the moment was gone. The fear and trepidation in her expression was replaced by tiredness. "Never mind."

Cullen placed a tentative hand on her shoulder moving his thumb in a circle. "Nevena..."

"Maybe I'll give you the gory details some other time." She smiled - false and brief - before she slipped and out of his grasp and away from him. "I'm going to bed." She waved. "Night Cullen. Have a good sleep."

Cullen watched as she disappeared behind the bedroom door. He wanted to try and coax her into staying and talking longer. He found he enjoyed her company and they didn't have to talk about her family, or her ex. But the door was already closed when he opened his mouth to try and stop her. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

"Goodnight, Nevena."

* * *

Hey everyone~

Thank you again for reading the previous chapter, and reading this one. I am appreciating it so much. And thank you for all the comments on the last chapter. Some really gave me some food for thought, and that is never a bad thing. I hope you liked this chapter, and you're enjoying the fic. As always, let me know in the comments.


	6. A Frostback Jaunt

_December 18th_

* * *

With no set plan in place and a fresh layer of thick snow on the ground, Cullen considered only briefly the options open to him for the day. Spending time around the cabin would be fine if there was more to do, but watching endless Christmas specials, movies and repetitive countdowns of Christmas songs or Christmas films did not appeal.

There was only so much festive spirit he could take and the lists never changed, _anyway_.

He decided to make the most of his time up in the mountains, and following a short conversation with Nevena about what her plans were, they agreed to venture into town and take the cable car up to the ski lodges in the Frostbacks.

Cullen could only recall skiing once in his life, and he wasn't sure if it he could really call it skiing. He had been nine at the time and the winter had been harsh with days of constant snow. He and his older sister, Mia, had made their own skis out of planks they broke off a wooden pallet. They'd roughly sanded them down, used thick string to keep their feet in place, and spent two days sharing the skis between themselves and their younger siblings until the snow grew too icy and their parents considered it too dangerous to continue.

The memory of that winter was a fond one. Cullen smiled remembering their fake skiing escapades and he had no intention of giving up the opportunity to try it for real. He stood in the cable car station with Nevena, waiting for it to return from the other station at the top of the mountain. Aside from the cable car operator there were only three other people waiting

"Have you been skiing before?" he asked Nevena. He hoped they might have a day without incident– a day of relaxation with no sisters, parents, or other issues. This was, at least, in part, a vacation for him and while Nevena was his client and he was technically working, Cullen didn't see why that should mean he could not enjoy himself.

"A couple of times." She stood next to him, bundled up against the cold. Overnight the temperature had dropped significantly and Nevena seemed to feel the effects far more than Cullen did. Half her face was tucked behind a scarf obscuring her mouth, and the wool hat she wore was pulled down over her ears and to her eyebrows. Cullen found her whole look quite endearing. "I was very young and I seem to remember falling over _a lot_."

Cullen smiled, "Then we're both beginners."

Nevena's smile was uncertain, "We can suck together."

"Everyone starts somewhere," he pointed out. The cable car rattled a small distance away causing Cullen to wince. He peered over the railing at the approaching car wondering just how safe it was. The station was quite old and out dated and the cable car itself did not look sturdy.

"Afraid of heights?" Nevena was at his elbow watching the car approach too.

"Heights I can handle." He smirked a little when he glanced at her. "I just have reservations about being suspended in mid-air in a metal box kept up by wire."

"There are other lifts up to the mountains," Nevena informed him. "There's the bubble lifts. Those are really small. Or the lift seats. Which are basically benches with a bar keeping you in place."

Cullen gulped back the slight sensation of sickness beginning to rise up his gullet. "I'll take my chances with the cable car." He could feel her eyes on him and schooled his expression before stepping away from the barrier. "Did you mention to anyone we were going up the mountain?"

"I texted Josef about it. And Roselyn."

"Why Roselyn? She's back in Denerim."

"We always tell each other where we are," explained Nevena. "We have a set of code words and everything so we know if the other is in trouble or stranded or lost. Stuff like that. Helped in college when dates went bad." She shrugged, "it's more habit than anything else nowadays."

Cullen arched a brow. The cable car groaned as it came into the bay and clunked into place. The doors opened and those inside filtered out. "Why code words? She's married, isn't she?"

"Yes." Nevena waited at his side. "It's for safety. We implemented it when we were living together and before she met Alistair. It's something that has stuck for a long time."

"Fair enough." Cullen followed Nevena into the cable car. It was a good size with six sets of seats, three on either side of a narrow central aisle. There were silver railings around the edge of the car for people standing to hang on to. The windows were glass, giving a pristinely clear view out. "I'm sure it's been useful in the past."

Nevena sat on one of the seats. "It's come in handy a few times." She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. "It'll be a while before we're up on the mountain. Sit." Cullen sat when she nodded to the place beside her. He could see the vast emptiness open before them from the front windows. The Frostback Mountains rose high over the cable car station and the town, white peaks giving way to forest thick with conifer trees. Cullen wondered what the wildlife was like, if he might see anything wander past the cabin when he was awake.

The cable car lurched out of the bay after the conductor confirmed the door was shut tight and not going to open spontaneously on the way up. Cullen planted his feet firmly on the ground and grabbed Nevena when she toppled forward, taken by surprise at the sudden movement. She sat back in the seat, smiled, and turned her attention to the window and the world coming into view as the car moved smoothly out of the station and started its journey up the mountain.

Cullen saw that the forest stretched for miles. He could see some buildings dotted around in the woods, and a few lookout towers standing high. It was probable that people went missing quite a lot, given how extensive the forests were. It gave Cullen a sense of relief to know there were rangers stationed and on the lookout, just in case anything should happen.

As the cable car continued its slow climb up the mountain, Cullen saw buildings coming into view. He saw skiers and snowboarders in brightly coloured gear rushing down slopes leaving a spray of snow in their wake. He noticed a large wooden building not far from where the cable car station was situated. There were people milling around it, and tables set out on an outside deck. The sun reflected off the snow making it seem brighter, but also warmer. Overall the journey in the cable car was fine for Cullen - his only complaint was how the winches and wheels of the car shunted and rattled when they passed over the motors that kept the wire going around.

Once the car was secure in the bay, the doors opened and those waiting to get on stepped aside to let others off. Cullen and Nevena disembarked and quickly made their way through the station towards the large wooden building Cullen saw on their approach. Up close, he saw that it was at least three floors and bustling with people. As soon as they stepped out of the station, it was like the whole mountain became a ski resort. There were two sets of chair lifts that dragged people a small way up to easy, shallow slopes; while not far off from there were other aerial lifts where people sat two to a chair with a bar across their laps their legs suspended over another beneath them The aerial lifts journeyed even further up the mountain to what Cullen assumed were more advanced ski slopes and tracks.

There were coloured posts and lines on the floor directing visitors to the café, the restaurant, the shop, and other points like the lounge. After checking the places and where they needed to go, he felt Nevena grasp his hand so they did not get separated in the movement of people and bodies. He let her hold it and clasped hers back without a second thought, following her through to where it was signposted 'rentals'.

The area for renting gear was colder than the rest of the visitor's centre. The floor was concrete, the walls wooden and damp. It seemed the rentals section was not as well maintained as the other parts of the building. A man stood at a booth and Cullen saw two other people, a man and woman, talking to visitors and buckling up their ski boots for them. After a brief wait they were taken aside and fitted in turn for boots, skis, and poles.

"Either of you skied before?" asked one assistant. Cullen already had his boots on and was walking around in them, getting used to the heftiness and the added weight. The assistant had spent more time than Cullen considered necessary making sure Nevena's boots fit and were comfortable. He was flirting - _badly -_ but Nevena seemed to be unaware. Or was just choosing to take the man's flirtatious nature as him being overly nice and diligent in his job.

"A long time ago," Nevena said.

"Same," Cullen nodded.

"All right." The man snapped the clasps on Nevena's boots into place. "Stick to the bunny slopes, they're the ones just outside the visitor's centre marked in green. If you feel bold once you've got used to it, you can go on the bigger beginner's slopes, which are the ones you'll need the drag lift to get to the top of."

"Okay."

"There are instructors around. They're in the red jackets with white slashes on their sleeves. If you want some help to get you started, you can grab one. It's what they're there for." He stood up. Cullen watched him offer his hands to Nevena to assist her in standing, and concealed a smirk behind a gloved hand when Nevena got to her feet unassisted offering a disarmingly sweet smile instead. "If you fall over, use your poles to help you up. Or each other. Just don't use your poles for anything else yet. Gets complicated otherwise. Keep 'em with you though. We charge you if you lose 'em."

"What if we both fall over?" asked Nevena.

"Then..." the assistant glanced between them. "I'm sure one of the instructors will help."

"Anything else?" Cullen picked up his skis from where they were leaning on the wall and handed Nevena's to her.

"If you get hungry, food is served at the restaurant until five and the cable car trips start slowing down around six thirty this time of year. They make their final trip around eight for the people who work here," the man said. Cullen checked his watch. Barely eleven in the morning. They had ample time. "If you don't want to get caught in the rush for the cable car, best get a move on between five thirty and six."

They left the rental shed through a door that led directly outside, skis and poles in hand. The easy slopes were within a short walking distance, and Cullen could see four instructors at a glance. They stood out against the snow all in different places. A couple appeared to be keeping a close eye on the slopes, ready to jump in, in case someone needed assistance. The other two were both with people, correcting them or giving them some pointers.

"Shall we try our luck?" he asked Nevena, "or would you prefer instructing?"

"I think given neither of us are particularly proficient in this, we should get some pointers and then play it by ear." She nudged him, grinning up at him. "Maybe we'll surprise ourselves and be naturals!"

"Stranger things have happened." Cullen returned her smile and followed her as she led the way towards the gently sloping hills and grabbed the attention of one of the instructors who was watching things going on around her.

Their instruction was brief, but thorough. The woman showed them how to place their feet and skis for turning, for speeding up, for slowing down. She gave demonstrations of how to get up if either of them fell over. She spoke quickly and was confident in what she told them, and it left Cullen feeling like he knew enough for what he envisioned he and Nevena doing for the day. He did not want to attempt any of the more challenging slopes where seasoned skiers would be, but he hoped at the very least they might be able to move off the bunny slopes before the end of the day.

After half an hour the instructor left them with assurances that they could ask her or her colleagues for help if they needed it. They spent some time going up and down the beginners' slope one at a time, meeting each other at the bottom and offering encouragement. Nevena always waved to Cullen from the bottom of the slope even though there was only little distance. She wore a smile and was full of exuberance when he reached her without incident. It was a stark contrast to the woman who shrank away and withered around her family. Here, without them around and with no obligations or expectations, she was exuberant, lively, and excited. Cullen enjoyed her company, and wondered how this behaviour translated back in Denerim. Was she still this bubbly person? Or was it simply the setting that brought out this other side of her?

Within an hour of their instruction and with many trips down the beginners slope under their respective belts, they moved on to the larger and longer of the beginner slopes. A draglift was needed to reach the top, and the slope had a slightly steeper incline, which allowed for more speed to be gained on the way down. Cullen watched other skiers going up and down for some time. It looked fun.

The drag lift was a little undignified, but those thirty seconds were worth it for the adrenaline rush on the way down the hill towards the visitor's centre and the barrier erected to prevent any accidents. The cold air hit Cullen's face in the same way cold water washed over a person when they dove into the sea. It was a sharp shock at first, but that moment of shock was gone just as fast and the excitement kicked in. It made Cullen feel like a young boy again, and he took several videos on his phone to send to his sister later. Mia would seethe with jealousy and he wanted to suggest to her that they all visit the Frostback Mountains in the future and see who was the better skier on _real_ skis.

Around lunchtime, the slopes emptied quite significantly. People disappeared into the visitor's centre to eat or warm up, and Cullen saw some people begin to make their way to the cable car to return to Edgehall. Despite eating a sizeable breakfast in the morning, Cullen realised for the first time he was actually growing hungry when he noticed the time, and decided after this next run down the slope he would wait at the bottom and ask Nevena if she wanted to eat.

He saw her on the draglift, caught her eye, smiled at her when she offered a little wave and pushed off from the top of the hill with his ski poles. Moving the skis into the necessary position to slow down was far easier now than it had been in the morning. His boots did not feel so awkward and heavy and he knew the best time to begin slowing so that he didn't hit the barrier at the bottom. Wind picked up around his face and blustered in his ears as his speed increased. Curled tufts of hair blew and tickled across his forehead and the back of his neck. He saw the bright orange marker indicating the halfway point of the slope and slid his skis into a plough position to begin the process of slowing down.

For a moment he was distracted. He thought someone shouted his name and he looked around for the source. In that instant his skis crossed. The bottom one caught the top one and as he realised, Cullen felt himself already starting to topple over when he tried to right them. Gravity brought him down hard on his side - Cullen cracked his head on the snow and heard the gnash of his teeth when he clenched his jaw. He reached the bottom of the slope in an undignified heap, legs and skis askew.

When he stopped he took a few seconds to check he was in one piece. His head hurt where it had hit the ground, but after a brief examination he was able to discern there was no blood, simply a bump already starting to develop. His jaw hurt a little where he'd snapped his teeth together against the impact, and the right side of his torso would likely not be a pretty sight in a few hours - but he still had all his limbs attached and mostly unharmed.

He wasn't too embarrassed, one of them was bound to fall over eventually, and there was a fifty percent chance it would be him.

"You okay down there?" Nevena's voice was drowned out slightly by the grinding sound of her skis on the snow. Cullen lifted his head a little from the ground to see her. Half his hair was wet now and he was surprised to see a look of genuine worry marring her features. She removed her hat and gloves, shoving them in the pockets of her jacket. "Cullen?"

"I'm fine. I wanted to examine the consistency of the snow." He laid his head back on the ground. Nevena laughed nearby and a moment later he felt her tap one of her ski poles against his leg. He batted it away half-heartedly.

"Come on." She planted both poles in the ground and offered a hand to him. "I'll help you up."

Cullen grasped her offered hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist for added grip. Nevena began to pull and Cullen pushed his weight into free hand on the ground to help him up. He began to lift himself off the snow slowly. They had forgotten the instructions for getting up and Nevena's ski's slipped. Cullen's hand couldn't support the additional weight, and it slid out from underneath him. He crashed to the cold ground once more, his groan of pain joined by a surprised yelp and a weight landing on top of him.

He began to laugh. A deep rumble rising up from his chest and rocking through him as he lay on the frozen ground, his head thrown back and one hand covering his eyes as a shield from the sun. His laughter was quickly joined with Nevena's. Self-conscious little bursts as she untangled her skis and laid her legs out straight. He was sure there were probably people watching them, wondering if they were both all right and just _why_ they were now both in fits of laughter. He didn't care. His laughter vibrated through his arms and fingers taking longer and longer to settle. Each time he felt it beginning to fade, Nevena's own laughter caused his to renew until they were both laughing breathlessly and red in the face.

"Well," Nevena held herself above him taking her weight on her arms, bodies still touching. "That didn't go quite how I intended."

"No," Cullen chuckled, rubbing his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. "I appreciate the offer of help though."

"I should say so." The mirth in Nevena's voice was sincere and a genuinely nice sound to hear. Cullen thought this was probably the first time he heard her laugh since they arrived three days ago. "Now what?" He felt her lying across him. One of her legs rested between his and he realised she had one hand on the snow beside his head, and the other was on his chest where she had her arm bent underneath her.

"We could stay here for a bit." Cullen suggested tilting his head to one side. "I'm sure no one would mind."

"Don't you worry we'll get in the way?" The teasing tone in Nevena's voice was as impossible to miss as the mischeviousmischievous smile she wore.

It occurred to Cullen they had not been this close before. Or perhaps they had been, but those times were fleeting and had not allowed him time to examine her as intimately as he did now. Her eyes had interested him the moment they met in the café that day. They were a warm amber and now the amber seemed to have flecks of copper shining in it. The sun broke through loose tendrils of hair spilling out of her ponytail, haloing her head making her hair almost burnished gold. Her smile was infectious and her mouth was attractively shaped. Somehow he'd missed just how stunning she was when she smiled. Her lips took his attention, Cullen's found himself wondering why he hadn't taken more opportunities to kiss her. He could have, given their arrangement.

That thought jarred him and he felt a cold that had nothing to do with the snow snap through his body. It made his chest tight and it was a struggle to breathe. He realised just how much he liked her being as close as she was now. He recognised how tempted he was to kiss her and how dangerous that thought was. She was a client. This was a business arrangement, and though he liked her company he did not want to confuse things or muddy the waters by acting on instinct and feelings.

To use their arrangement to kiss her was unethical, wasn't it? To take advantage of the fact he _could_ kiss her, didn't mean he should. They agreed it was only for when her family was around – to even consider kissing her was wrong. _So_ wrong. It didn't matter how tempting he found her mouth. To think it was bad, to realise he was considering acting on those thoughts was worse.

Even if those thoughts and feelings were pleasant and made his stomach clench in a nervously excited way - acting on them would be a disaster. This was business and in Cullen's experience, emotions and business never mixed.

Nevena's thumb brushing his face caught him off guard and he she'd leaned even closer. "You had a little something." She ran her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone. "Snow, I think."

"We should try and get up." Cullen said, unease replacing the warmth of the laughter from before. He propped himself up on his elbows avoiding Nevena's gaze as she rolled off him. "My clothes are getting wet."

Nevena glanced around and suddenly waved. "There's an instructor." Cullen followed her line of sight and saw the same woman from before approaching them.

He was grateful when she joined them and when she helped Nevena first to her feet. It gave him a moment to take a breath, one that cleared his mind of his previous thoughts. Nevena was a client. Even if he liked her beyond the current capacity they were in, acting on that was not something he should or even _could_ do. This whole fiasco of being around her family and keeping up the facade was going to be trouble enough without throwing sincere affection, beyond that of friendship, into the mix.

Professional. He would keep it professional. And he would not think about Nevena's eyes or her mouth. Nor about how much he was beginning to enjoy her company. He would not think about anything to do with her, beyond their arrangement.

* * *

Weather turned quickly on the Frostbacks, and that day was no different. Within the space of an hour, the clear skies were replaced by thick, dark, grey clouds, and the sunshine gave way to snow falling thick and fast. The pleasant, cold breeze picked up to a harsh, frozen wind that made Cullen's face ache if he was turned into it for too long.

Instructors cleared people off the ski slopes for safety, and they were bundled into the visitor's centre to wait for the freak storm to pass. It didn't, and Cullen agreed with Nevena when she suggested that they should return their rented gear and head back down the mountain. She didn't want to risk being stranded if they stopped the cable car running and frankly, neither did Cullen.

Once they returned their gear and retrieved their belongings, they went to the cable car station to wait. They were not the only people with the same idea... the station was packed full of people bustling and waiting for the next car. Cullen blanched at how tightly they were all jammed together with hardly room to breathe, let alone move. They moved together like a school of fish, shifting and jostling when the car arrived to let passengers on. Even with the first lot gone, the station was still packed full to bursting and Cullen began to think being stranded on the mountain until the next day might be preferable to being crammed like sardines into a metal box suspended hundreds of feet above the ground.

Nevena was not having any of it, though. Despite her size, or perhaps because of it, she was able to wiggle and wind her way through the waiting crowds of people. She held Cullen firmly by the hand so not to lose him, and led him through the people, uttering apologies and smiling whenever someone glared at her for trying to push in. Cullen could feel the panic already beginning to seep into him like water into a sponge. His body absorbed it and he could feel it creeping up his spine and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect.

Without thinking about it he tightened his hold around Nevena's hand when they came to a spot to wait for the next car. His palm was sweaty and he hoped she didn't notice. He tried to focus on how her hand felt in his, something innocuous and mundane, but his mind was drawn to the prospect of being suspended in mid-air in a small box. Blocked in. No air. Trapped.

He closed his eyes to try and block out the reality and to help him focus and ground himself. His hearing was already slightly muffled by the thumping of his heart growing louder and louder, but he could still hear the murmur of people around him. He could feel them moving, shifting, becoming impatient and cold. He breathed. He needed to breathe and he needed to keep it under control. If he lost control... he did not want to think of the outcome.

His chest expanded, contracted. Expanded. Contracted. Each breath was thought out and on purpose. It gave him something to concentrate on; his ribcage opening, his lungs filling. Even the movement and sensation of his clothing on his skin was a distraction. Anything to keep his mind occupied from the fear dawning before him. He would have to go into that cable car. There was no other way down the mountain now. The other lifts Nevena mentioned before were now out of service - the fast winds were considered too dangerous for them to make the trip.

He could do this. The journey in the cable car would not last too long. If he could just stay calm and keep his mind clear, he could get through it.

"Cullen." He snapped his eyes open to the sound of his name. Nevena's face faded into view. The cable car groaned when it was set into the bay. The sound set Cullen's teeth on edge and sounded so much worse than it had in the morning. He wondered how many times the car had broken down and left its occupants suspended in the air for hours. The doors of the car opened and people began to file in. Those in first took the few seats there were. Nevena gave his hand a tug. He followed without even thinking about it.

With every step his limbs grew heavier and more difficult to control. He wondered if he looked like he was walking normally to everyone else around him, because he felt like he was not bending his knees and that every gesture was awkward. When he crossed the threshold from the station onto the car, it jiggled a little and he clenched his jaw. It was something he didn't notice on their journey up, but of course it would move. It was suspended on nothing but winches and wire. His heart thudded at the back of his throat and he noticed for the first time how difficult it was to swallow.

They moved towards the back of the car to allow more room for people to get on. With every person who got on, Cullen's panic grew. There was so little room. He could hardly turn around. He and Nevena were in a corner and pressed close together. He fought to breathe slowly. She would notice if it started to increase and he did not want that. He did not want to create a scene. No one else needed to know the fear as it clawed at him and arose from a place in the back of his mind, long forgotten. No one else needed to know that the back of his shirt was now drenched in cold sweat and he could almost feel each nerve ending buzzing beneath his skin.

He could get through this. Once they reached the bottom of the mountain it would pass. He would be fine. He could get through this.

When the cable car was fully packed the doors closed with a resolute thud. Cullen winced. He didn't realise Nevena still had a hold of his hand. Or maybe he was holding hers - he couldn't be sure - but he knew his grip tightened, and in doing so, she moved a little closer. The car lurched as it left the bay. People swayed with the momentum and laughed nervously as they settled. Cullen hissed his breath through his teeth, hoping that it sounded something like a laugh.

As the car left the station, all Cullen could see through the windows was grey snow blowing at them. The faint glow of Edgehall was miles away and felt like it would take a lifetime to get to. He could just make out outlines of the trees below. His stomach descended past his knees, to his feet, through the floor, and at least twenty feet below him. Sweat on his face trickled down the side of his head and under his collar.

 _Breathe_. He reminded himself realising he hadn't taken a breath for a few seconds. _Breathe._

He breathed. Conversation around him was murmured, soft, and utterly deafened by the drumbeat of his heart pounding in his ears. His chest was too tight. His clothes were too tight. Someone had him in a grip. Something was keeping his chest contracted. He couldn't get enough air. He couldn't get enough anything. The panic dug its claws in and spread around him like snake venom. He was trembling. He shook his hand from Nevena's and pushed the fingers of both hands through his hair. He pulled at the roots hoping the pain might be enough to distract him.

"Cullen," Nevena's voice was far away and distorted. Her face when he looked at her was just as warped. A black haze misted the edges of his sight, only serving to make the panic worse. He took a small step back and bumped into the person behind him. They grunted, annoyed, and he tried to apologize but his tongue was like a lead weight in his mouth. A swelling lead weight, which was starting to feel too big for his mouth, and like it was denying him the air he so desperately needed. He retreated again. The same person snapped at him but this time he didn't even hear them.

"Cullen." Again, he looked at Nevena. She was reaching out to him. He noticed faces beyond hers were little more than blobs with small indistinguishable features. Someone with a deep voice said something. The words were utterly garbled in Cullen's mind. Movement behind and around him. A slow, gradual shifting. Nevena's hands reached out towards him. She was not a danger. She was not a threat; he knew that, yet he still recoiled. His eyes hurt where they were almost jammed open by some unseen force. He was trying to find something to focus on but nothing was clear. All he could make out were colours and vague faces.

His back found the wall of the cable car and he slid down against it. He brought his knees as close to his body as he possibly could and dug his blunt fingernails into his scalp. The pain was dull and not as much as he wanted, but it was something. _Something_. A tiny glimmer of clarity, which he clung too. When the pain went away after several seconds, he moved his fingers to another part of his head and did the same.

His eyes closed to the sights around him, he jerked when tentative and delicate fingers wrapped around his hands. . His arms were stiff but he allowed himself to be moved and manipulated, unable to find enough air to argue against it. Those hands took his and pressed them against something soft, but solid. Something moving with a steady . Cullen opened his eyes but could only see down to his legs and the floor. Whatever his hand was pressed to was a steady momentum, rhythmic. A voice was speaking but the words were nonsense, white noise. The tone broke through the haze, though, a calming, soothing sound in a voice fighting off a tremble.

"It's okay..." Cullen heard that phrase repeated over and over again. He struggled to believe it. "You're okay. Keep breathing. Slowly, now... slowly..."

He followed the voice and the instructions being given to him. He bit his lips between his teeth, another distraction, another momentary pain. His nostrils flared - his inhalations growing deeper and more desperate. He couldn't breathe through his mouth anymore; his tongue was too swollen to allow any air in.

"Cullen, look at me." The voice broke through again, more insistent than before. "I need you to look at me." Cullen struggled with the simple request but did as asked, lifting his eyes. Sweat beaded on his forehead and tears escaped from his eyes. His head ached like there was someone inside his skull and they were drilling to get out. He met a pair of amber eyes briefly before the cable car juddered and he slammed his eyes closed again. There was movement around him and then cool hands on his face.

"Open your eyes again." The voice said. "You're okay, I promise, you're okay." He opened his eyes slowly. He met the amber gaze again and managed to hold it. His chest hurt where he was breathing so hard and so fast and it was like his lungs were on fire. "Slow down, slow down..." He knew the voice as Nevena's and heard it under the thundering in his ears. She sounded so far away but was hardly inches from him. He could feel her weight gingerly against him. She was on the floor of the cable car too. "Breathe, Cullen, just breathe." She held one of his hands to her chest more securely and he could feel the regular rise and fall. "Easy now,easynow, easy… In… And out…"

She shifted closer. Her forehead touched his and he could suddenly not just feel her breathing but hear it too. Her mouth so close to his he could feel every exhale against his lips. He closed his eyes again, less distraction to help him focus. Her breaths were measured and deliberate, each one purposeful and there to guide him. He fought to slow down. Each time he breathed out he could make it last longer and his inhales grew steadily less fraught. Cold pierced through his clothing - the first real sensation he felt as the panic started to subside. He didn't move, even as his control returned to him. He kept his hand pressed to Nevena's chest, feeling it expand. His eyes remained closed, blocking out everything but the sounds and sensations around him. Nevena's fingers on his left cheek slipped back through his hair, winding loose strands around her fingers. The gesture might have been a distraction for her, but it was a pleasurable little moment and gradually replaced the cold fear clutching to Cullen's skin with fizzling warmth.

Only when the cable car shunted into the station at the base of the mountain did Cullen risk opening his eyes. The other passengers all filed out. Cullen could hear them murmuring and avoided catching anyone's gaze. They would judge him, they would make underhanded comments. They didn't know the facts. They didn't know _why_ this happened or how he now could feel shame sinking in the pit of his stomach.

"We're here," Nevena told him, her voice still in a softer register than her usual tone. She looked around and nodded to someone. "One of the passengers called down to the station. There are some paramedics here to make sure you're okay."

"No," Cullen's protest hardly sounded like a word, just a grunt.

"Yes," she retorted. "Can you stand?"

Cullen moved his toes and his feet. Feeling was returning to every limb at an accelerated rate wracking every inch with agonizing pins and needles. He used the bar around the edge of the cable car to help him to his feet. He stumbled on his first step and Nevena quickly grabbed an arm, wrapped it over her shoulders and took some of Cullen's weight. He tried to tell her not to, that he could move on his own and he was too heavy, but the words were failing in his throat and he was moving without thinking about it. Each step was sluggish and he could feel his whole body quivering with the recesses of his panic still ebbing through him like a pulse.

Once they stepped onto the platform of the cable car station, two men in dark green uniform jackets retrieved him from Nevena and guided him to sit on a bench nearby. Nevena sat beside him and Cullen watched as the two men began to examine him. His senses were starting to return to him. One of them checked his eyesight, shining a bright light into both eyes. The other rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, wrapped a band around his arm and began to squeeze on a small pump to check his blood pressure. They took his pulse and asked Nevena questions.

"What happened?"

"We were on the cable car. It was packed..." Nevena shook her head. Cullen realised she was clinging to his free hand and that her knuckles and face were white. She was shaking too and not the kind of shake caused by the cold. "I don't... One minute he was standing and the next he was on the floor hyperventilating."

"Has this happened before?"

"I don't... know." She shrugged feebly. "He fell over when we were skiing earlier. We both did. But Cullen said he hit his head on the snow."

One paramedic took notes while the other continued to check Cullen for vitals. "His eyes are responding fine. Any complaint of a headache?"

"Not earlier," Nevena said.

"I have one now..." Cullen managed to choke out. "I'm fine." He removed his arm from the blood pressure band once it was deflated. "It was a panic attack."

"Are you prone to panic attacks?" asked the man taking notes.

Cullen grimaced, "Yes." He avoided Nevena's gaze when he answered. "I'm a little claustrophobic. With the cable car as packed as it was... I should have waited until there were less people but we were concerned that the cars would stop due to the weather."

"I didn't know that you were claustrophobic," Nevena said.

One of the paramedics looked at her, "Are you his wife? Girlfriend?"

"Oh, uhm-" Cullen saw colour rising in her cheeks from the corner of his eye. She stared down at where she was still gripping his hand and quickly released it. "I'm... well, I'm his-"

"Girlfriend," Cullen answered returning his attention to the paramedics. The tension that rose between himself and Nevena was practically tangible. Saying she was his girlfriend was the best choice. It would eliminate the need for them to ask for details of next-of-kin. "Look, I'm fine now," he said after a brief pause where the two paramedics looked at each other.

"Are you staying in town?"

"No, at Haven," Nevena answered. "We drove into Edgehall. I'll drive us back though."

"All right." As one man began to pack away his medical kit, another signed and ticked a few boxes on his paperwork. He tore off a top sheet and handed it to Nevena. "If there are any other issues, if he has another panic attack, something like that - if you call and give this reference number," he pointed to a long assortment of numbers and letters, "whomever comes out will have the details ready to go."

"Thank you." Nevena folded the piece of paper. "We won't make a move just yet."

Cullen tried not to feel a little insulted at being talked about as though he was not there. The paramedics were only doing their job and Nevena was probably scared given what just happened. He was not looking forward to the evening. He knew he would need to explain. Even if Nevena did not ask directly, he would need to explain. It was the fair thing to do. That was going to be a difficult situation.

Once the paramedics were gone, Cullen waited only a few minutes until he got to his feet. His legs were still a little shaky but he was steady and was more-or-less calm. His breathing was regular, the pain in his head was still there, but that would remain until he took something for it. He could see and hear fine and now wanted nothing more than to get to the cabin and forget about the last thirty minutes.

"Give me the car keys," Nevena held her hand out expectantly. "I'm not letting you drive up to the cabin in this weather after that." She jerked her head at the cable car.

Cullen stuffed a hand in his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around the small key ring and placed them in Nevena's hands. "Fine. Let's just get out of here." He started walking. She caught up to him and then moved in front of him, blocking his path.

"What was that all about?" She was trying hard to look angry. Trying so hard and yet failing so spectacularly. Her brows were furrowed, but there was more concern and fear etched on her face than anger. Her concern was touching, and were Cullen in a better mood, he knew he would appreciate it more.

"Later," he told her.

"But-"

"I _will_ tell you," He cut her off. "But later." He waited for her to move. She didn't and a hardness settled in her expression that wasn't there before. She didn't believe him. "I promise I will tell you." He stepped closer. "I owe you that, but can we just go back to the cabin first?"

After several tense seconds, Nevena moved to one side. "Fine."

Cullen began to walk out of the station. Nevena followed behind him. He ran one hand through his hair and tried to ready and organize his thoughts. This was not how he envisioned the day ending.


	7. Explanations

_December 18th, evening_

* * *

"I counted eight bruises," Nevena announced. She walked in from the bedroom to the main living area and Cullen glanced up from where he was in the midst of cooking. She zipped her hooded top up over her flimsy pyjama tank and tugged her damp hair out of the back of it.

Since they had returned from Edgehall - taking the drive very slowly given the treacherous terrain - they had both showered and changed into warm, dry clothing. While Nevena had her shower, Cullen started cooking - more out of habit than any necessity. Cooking was a focus. It gave him something to concentrate on.

They had yet to speak about what happened in the cable car, and if Cullen was honest he didn't much want to. But he could feel the unspoken conversation hanging over them like a storm cloud. There was no easy way to approach the topic. No easy way to explain what happened. Cullen was not eager to divulge his past to anyone, let alone a woman who was a client. Now he felt he was obligated to. He owed her an explanation given that the panic attack was his fault anyway. He should have known better.

"What're you making?" Nevena leaned on the on the counter to Cullen's right examining the contents of a casserole dish he found while searching through the kitchen cupboards.

"I thought stew would be good. Given how cold it's become. Typical winter warmer." Cullen did not look at her as he gathered up a handful of diced pork and dropped it into the dish with the other ingredients already in there. "Unless you'd like something else?"

"No." Nevena moved out of the way. "I'll eat pretty much whatever is put in front of me."

Cullen smiled to himself, "Good to know."

They fell into a somewhat relaxed silence. He was aware of her watching him while he continued to prepare different raw ingredients and dropped them into the dish. He mixed after each addition. Nevena sniffed a few of the condiments he had out on the kitchen counter. He could practically feel the question she wanted to ask hanging in the air. Invisible to her. A blaring, neon sign to him.

"So-"

"How many bruises did you count?"

Cullen wiped his hands on the dish towel he was using as a make-shift apron. He tilted a brow and looked at her, puzzled.

"You said in the car, we should compare."

"That's right," Cullen nodded. "I did." He paused and leaned against the counter. "Only counted five. Though the one from where I fell on my side is impressive."

"I bet." Nevena scooted away from the kitchen towards the dining table allowing Cullen to place the dish in the oven and leave it to cook through. He deposited the dish towel on the counter, washed his hands, and readied himself for the explanation he would need to give.

Words ran through his head. He wondered where, exactly, he should start? How much detail did he need to give? What about time scale or time frame? He ruffled a hand through his hair as he turned towards the dining table and Nevena sitting in a chair with her legs tucked up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees.

"I feel bad," Nevena blurted out, speaking again before Cullen had an opportunity.

"Oh?"

"You've cooked what, twice?" She looked at him.

"I like cooking," Cullen explained. He crossed to the table and sat in the chair opposite hers. "It keeps me distracted and it's kind of calming. It's nice to create something and enjoy it."

"I guess." Nevena tilted her head to one side. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and she pursed her lips. "I am not a very good cook. Ineria can make whatever she turns her hand to, as long as she has enough prep time. I can just about cook scrambled eggs without messing it up."

"I haven't cooked for someone else in a long time," Cullen remarked. He met Nevena's eyes across the table and gave a lop-sided smile. "It's nice. To share that with someone again."

She beamed, "Well - I'm glad I'm the one who gets to share it. Who taught you?"

"My parents." Cullen shrugged his shoulders. "They taught all of us. My sisters and my brother. Beats spending money on take out all the time."

"I can imagine."

Silence began to settle again, longer than before. The quaint small talk about food and cooking put them both at ease for the duration of the conversation. But now with the silence dragging, the atmosphere was growing tense once more. Nevena shuffled in her chair. She raked her fingers back through her hair and gave a little cough to clear her throat. She _looked_ like she wanted to speak but was struggling to find the words. Cullen did not want to speak, but knew what he should say.

He shifted in his own seat trying to disguise his unease as an attempt to get comfortable. He drummed his fingers on the table once. Twice. "Don't you..." he began. Nevena's gaze snapped to him. He suddenly wished there was music, or some kind of ambient noise. It would make talking so much easier. He took a breath, pretending not to feel his stomach clench. "Why aren't you asking about..." He scratched the back of his neck. "About what happened?"

"Because I had a thought," Nevena's expression softened and warmed. She smiled, a gentle, sincere smile, which caused dimples to appear in her cheeks.

"You had a thought?" repeated Cullen.

"In the shower."

"In... the shower?" He frowned, slightly bemused.

Nevena chuckled, "Don't knock it. It's where I do my best thinking."

"I believe you." Cullen leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. "And what was this thought?"

She took a deliberate breath and mimicked him, dropping her legs to the floor and perching her arms of the edge of the table. "You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to," she said. Cullen stared at her, sure he misheard.

"I'm sorry?"

"I thought about it," Nevena explained. "And I know you said you would tell me what happened, why you had a panic attack. But I decided I don't _need_ to know. You can tell me, if you want. But it's totally your choice. No pressure from me." She teased a lock of hair behind her ear. "Honestly, I'm just glad you're okay. That's what matters. That's what is most important to me."

Cullen's chest tightened. She was so sincere, so earnest. This wasn't some kind of ploy or plot to get him to tell her things. There was no deceit in her face, or her voice. Her sentiments were genuine. Her concern and the words she said were honest. Her focus was him. Not the history, just him, and whether he was alright. Whether he was calmer and the worst has passed. Cullen couldn't remember the last time someone put him before themselves and he felt a smile come to his lips. He contemplated reaching across the table and taking her hand in a show of gratitude, but thought better of it. He did not want to make things awkward or confusing. Not when the air between them was now so calm and relaxed.

"Thank you," Cullen said after letting her words sink in for a few moments. "I appreciate it."

"No problem." Nevena leaned back in her chair and her hands were now out of reach. Even if Cullen wanted to take her hand to show his appreciation in a gesture, it was no longer possible. "I _am_ glad you're okay..." A blush rose to her cheeks and she avoided his gaze. "Kind of scared me for a bit there."

Cullen leaned further across the table, "I'm sorry. I should have told you about the claustrophobia."

"It wasn't necessary. But at least I know for the future to avoid cramped spaces."

"Imagine if we'd been on a first date and it happened." Cullen remarked, rubbing a hand over his chin and then the back of his neck.

"It would probably go on record as the _worst_ first date ever..." she laughed and looked him up and down, "I'd still be amenable to a second date, though."

"Good to know I'd have a second chance to make a first impression."

"You might even get a third, if you're lucky." Nervous laughter followed Nevena's words. Her blush spread up to her forehead and down her neck making her look almost sunburnt.

He watched her pull her hair over one shoulder, beginning to style it into a thick braid. His chest still ached from the trapped sensation the panic attack brought. Even though she said he was under no obligation to tell her the reason for his panic attack, he wanted to. Her kindness made him more determined to be honest, and give her all the details. Details he had not really told anyone, beyond his family and one other person. The truth weighed heavy in his stomach. A weight that would not shift until he cleared the air.

"Nevena..." Cullen murmured her name. He rose from one chair and moved to another that was closer to her. Nevena watched him do so and threw her half finished braid over her shoulder. "I know you said I didn't have to tell you..."

"Mhm?"

"What if I want to?" He looked her dead in the eye and tried to keep his expression still and impassive. He did not want to show just how much talking about the past would mean to him. How much it might help him. He did not want to frighten or overwhelm her. Nevena was a client, and given the growing familiarity between them, he considered her a friend. If he told her, then it would be a secret he no longer needed to carry around. It would be a burden shared and perhaps halved.

Nevena inched closer and turned her body towards him, giving her full attention, "Then by all means."

Cullen's lips twitched into a small smile. "Okay." He ran his hands through his hair. "I... guess... I'm not sure." He hummed thoughtfully for a moment. All the things he wanted to say before having now scattered from his mind. "Let me start with some history." He nodded to himself, as if telling himself that was the best place to start. "Is that okay?"

"Sure," Nevena nodded. "Whatever will help."

"I told you when we first met that I work in sports and rehabilitation therapy," He began. "Do you remember that?"

"Mhm-hm," Nevena nodded. "You mentioned that a lot of your work is with people learning to walk again after an accident. Sometimes military veterans who were seriously injured in service."

"Not sometimes," Cullen said. "Almost _all_ the time." He chewed the inside of his bottom lip for a moment before continuing. "I consider it as my way of giving back. I was in the army from nineteen until I retired at twenty-eight."

"Okay..." Nevena pursed her lips. "Nineteen seems so young."

Cullen shrugged, "I was in the cadets when I was a child. All I ever wanted to do was protect people. I considered the police for a long time, but it never sat right with me. It wasn't what I _wanted_ to do. So, I enlisted and began my military career. I showed promise. After a year I was selected for..." He leaned back, letting the word drag as he thought how best to phrase his thoughts. "I guess you'd call it a specialized squad, known as T.E.M.P.L.A.R.s."

"TEMPLARs?" Nevena quirked a brow.

"It's an acronym. The full name is Tactical Emergency Management and Passive Local Area Recon," explained Cullen settling back into his chair. "Basically, we would go into areas under attack from infighting or guerrilla warfare, deal with it, and then spend however much time necessary trying to help the locals rebuild. For the first year I was with them, I was stationed in Kinloch. You know it?"

 _"Vaaaguely."_

"I was stationed during right before the revolution, mostly to keep watch and assist if necessary. Our presence was just to keep the peace as much as was possible, and deal with any unrest without force. We were there to help with the security for construction of buildings lost in earlier terrorist attacks and for protection of civilians." Slowly Cullen clasped his hands together and stared at them. "We were there because there was some ongoing political unrest. Two factions - Resolutionists and Loyalists - going at each other with whatever they could find. Kinloch was under the leadership of the Loyalist political faction, but a large amount of people disagreed with their choices and those in charge. Resolutionists wanted things changed, they wanted to be in power and... would bring down those that opposed them by any means necessary. Before we got there, there had been repeated attacks on schools and hospitals, as well as residential areas. As emergency response, we cleared out the extremists who were responsible for the attacks and stayed to help maintain stability."

Nevena's chair squeaked on the floor when she inched it closer. "What happened?"

"We thought the two factions had quieted down due to our presence. We thought things were under control." Cullen breathed to steady himself. "We were caught unawares by infiltrators-Resolutionists who blended in to the community we were trying to help rebuild and protect. Car bombs and IEDs were set off in precise locations, effectively corralling innocent people and my own teammates. We were rounded up. They tried to convert civilians to their cause. Those who conformed, lived. Those who didn't were slaughtered. Us, the military, some of us were held for ransom. Some were killed as examples. Some were tortured and left to die. I... saw a lot of my friends killed in front of me. To the Resolutionists, _we_ were part of the problem."

"Oh, Cullen..." Nevena reached across and took his hands.

"With a couple of other surviving TEMPLARs, I was able to gather up a few remaining civilian prisoners and tried to help them escape. Someone informed on us, and we were, captured. As I was an instigator they made an example of me." Recounting the history brought up the smells and sounds again. Fresh. As though he were there all over again. He closed his eyes to try and centre himself, concentrating on his words. "I was... beaten, tortured. I saw my friends, those I'd tried to help, gunned down without remorse. They kept me alive - just -locked in a cell with no windows and one way out. They denied me sleep, tried to break my will, my mind. I... I don't know what they wanted. They never told me. "

"You're shaking." Nevena was closer when Cullen opened his eyes. He was quivering from head-to-foot. Funny how he hadn't realised it. "Cullen, it's okay." She tentatively touched his cheek and turned his head so he looked at her. It was a gesture that was almost tender in its intimacy. "You don't have to go on. I understand."

"Let me." He turned his body to face her completely. Their knees were touching and Cullen held her hands in his. "I don't know how long it was, but eventually re-enforcements came. They were able to end the occupation of Kinloch and I was freed from the prison. After that I... I struggled for a long time. I still wanted to serve and do good. This was what I always wanted to do since my childhood, after all."

He fell silent. His breathing was quicker and his heart raced. His clothing stuck to his skin with the cold sweat breaking out all over him. He felt sick and his throat was dry. He swallowed to dampen it and winced with the effort it took to do just that. He was safe. It was all a memory and it was in the past. He was in no immediate danger and he needed to remember that.

"After a brief recovery I was reassigned to another TEMPLARs' squads. This time in Kirkwall, in the Free Marches."

"I know it," Nevena murmured. "Our family came from Ostwick, originally. I grew up there."

Cullen smiled weakly. She was trying to be supportive and trying to relieve the severity of the conversation and what he was telling her. He appreciated that attempt at normality. "I still wanted to serve. I still wanted to protect and keep people safe. I thought I could. But my... My experiences in Kinloch tainted that desire. I was tarnished and broken. Kirkwall was worse than Kinloch; anti-religious fanatics and so called 'freedom fighters' wanted to make a point against the Mothers of the Chantry. Admittedly, some of the Mothers were questionable – stirring up racist fears, bringing legitimate businesses under fire because they would not give to the Chantry a percentage of what they made. After Kinloch, my own faith was… shaken. I believed in the Andrastian way, but not as strongly as I once did. I saw danger around every corner, and my commanding officer, Meredith Stannard, only fed my paranoia. I rose up the ranks and followed her every order without question." He sighed. "Until..."

He stopped. Meredith's face appeared in his mind. The sharp angles, the near constant frown, piercing blue eyes and white blonde hair. She was always an imposing woman but towards the end she was more haggard and worn.

"Until...?" Nevena prompted.

"Meredith lost sight of what the TEMPLARs were meant to do. Protect, and rebuild. I almost lost sight of it too."

"But you didn't?"

"I didn't." Cullen ran one hand through his hair and rubbed his fingers down his face. "A single man caused untold destruction in Kirkwall. He rigged the Kirkwall Grand Cathedral with explosives. One of the leading religious figures, Grand Cleric Ethina, was killed in the blast, along with hundreds of other members of the Chantry. Hundreds more innocent civilians were killed in the aftermath by other looters and rioters and falling debris. Everyone was looking for someone else to blame."

"I remember that," Nevena breathed. "It was all over the news. You were there?"

"I was there," he nodded slowly. "I was there and was almost complicit in the massacre of innocents because _they_ were there. There was no excuse for what Meredith called for, they were peaceful protestors." Cullen shifted uncomfortably. " _He_ was peaceful for a long time too. He organized protests and wrote endless letters to try and plead his case. But no one would listen. _I_ didn't listen. His attacking the Chantry was the last act of a desperate man."

"What do you mean you were almost complicit?"

"Meredith ordered the TEMPLARs under her command to round up the protestors. She wanted _them_ to be held accountable for _his_ actions... I refused. I disobeyed a direct order and questioned her leadership because when I looked around, I saw frightened people. People who were terrified and being blamed as a whole for the act of _one_ person," Cullen shook his head at the memory and scoffed. "That wasn't what I wanted. That wasn't what the TEMPLARs were supposed to be. They were meant to help people. Keep the peace. Protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Meredith wanted us to be executioners."

"So," Nevena still held one of his hands and squeezed it. "What happened?"

"My questioning Meredith caused others to do the same. She was forcibly removed from her position and authority and detained until someone of higher ranking could deal with her. As her appointed Captain, command fell to me. So, I reminded the TEMPLARs of their duty to protect."

"That's good though, right?" queried Nevena, her tone uncertain. "You did the right thing?"

"Too little, too late," Cullen said with a bitter growl to his voice. He got to his feet and began to walk a small path back and forth between the counter and the table. "Even as we tried to rally ourselves, there was pandemonium no matter what direction you turned. At one point, I came across a collapsed building with people inside. Debris from the explosion caved in the roof. I tried to get the people trapped inside out but the building was unstable around them and with me trying to move things..." He stopped pacing to lean on the counter over the sink. He hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck where it was starting to ache.

Nevena came and stood beside him. She said nothing, simply waited. He admired her drive to hear him out. In the past he'd never gotten quite this far. He always stopped, finding he couldn't face the truth about the person he once was. How close he came to being like the people who captured and tortured him.

"The house collapsed on top of me," he said after a few minutes pause. "The rubble was too heavy to move on my own... The… The people I tried to save were crushed. I heard them screaming as the building came down." Another dragging silence where the only sound was his breathing. "I don't even know how long I was trapped. I believed I was going to die there. In a tiny space barely big enough for me to move my arms."

"Someone found you?"

"A relief effort came… I'm not sure how long it was before they arrived. Days? Maybe even weeks. When they found me I was weak, dehydrated, and delusional. I spent days in hospital recovering from the trauma and the shock... Once I was considered healthy enough, There was a hearing to answer questions about the situation. It was a formal hearing and I was questioned about my decision to remove Meredith from command. The hearing was found in my favour: that relieving Meredith of her position when her judgement was so impaired was the only sensible course of action at the time, and that I had done as much as I could to relieve the tensions. I was medically retired and given a commendation for my part in aiding Kirkwall immediately following the explosion." He drummed his fingers on the metal sink. "I never felt more ashamed or undeserving of anything in my entire life."

"Why?" Nevena asked. He looked at her and saw the confusion on her face. "They clearly believed you deserved it."

"A last minute change of heart is the only reason I have a medal and those honours," he replied fighting to keep the anger from his voice but glaring at his reflection in the window over the sink. "I didn't deserve anything except to be forgotten and to disappear into obscurity."

"That isn't true." She took his hand again. "Cullen, you did good things before Kirkwall. You survived torture and yet you _still_ wanted to do good things and protect people. You made mistakes, but to make mistakes is to be human."

"Not when those mistakes cost lives."

Her grip tightened. "You blame yourself, don't you?" She said meeting his gaze when he looked squarely at her. "For the deaths of the people in Kirkwall? In Kinloch? Survivors guilt?"

"I thought I was all right." Cullen told her, his voice growing hoarse with the emotion he was trying to keep under control and leaving her question unanswered. "For years I lived with nightmares of Kinloch. And then I had more nightmares of Kirkwall. I thought they were nothing, that they would pass. I believed the days of not sleeping until I was too exhausted to stay awake were normal. I would see my friends' faces. The faces of people I trained with and considered as close to me as family. The people I failed to save. I would hear them. I _still_ hear them, even now. It didn't even occur to me until much later that I carried the effects of being trapped with me either. When I got stuck in a lift and had my first panic attack..." He managed to laugh. "I thought I was going to die."

"I'm sorry..." Nevena sighed. "That you went through... everything."

Cullen cleared his throat and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I was kind of lost for a while afterwards. I was depressed, and I isolated myself until I got help and decided to give back. I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't waste away. The military was all I ever knew, and I wanted to do something to try and give back. It's why I chose to do an accelerated degree. I wanted to help people get back on their feet."

"You wanted to help people," repeated Nevena. "You just can't help yourself."

"Hm?"

"You said you wanted to help people when you joined the Army. You wanted to help people with your degree..." She tilted her head to one side. "You're even helping me right now. Pretending to be in a relationship with me. It's ingrained in you."

"I don't know about that," Cullen chuckled awkwardly, the weight of his past beginning to lift. "I'm sorry for putting all that on you. I didn't intend for it to get so deep."

"That's okay," Nevena shrugged. "Suddenly feels like I know you a lot better now."

"You do." He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets turning his body to face her. "You know me about as well as my family do."

"Wow." She tucked her hands behind her back and swayed, almost playfully, on the spot. "That's pretty intimate knowledge... Any other deep, dark secrets you should tell me?" Cullen wasn't sure if she was trying to lighten the mood with her question, but he appreciated it, none-the-less.

"No," Cullen smirked. "What about you? Any skeletons I need to know about?"

Just like that, he saw her playfulness disappear and the barriers of her defence shoot up around her. She put space between them where there was hardly any before and retreated away from him. "No. Nothing." She shrugged. "I'm a completely open book."

"Of course you are." Cullen watched as she fidgeted with her hair again and untied the messy braid she tied it in before and began to retie it. He knew there was no point pushing the matter. And she didn't owe him anything. Just because he had told her the details of his past did not mean it was now her turn. Some things were more personal and more difficult to discuss than others.

He turned his attention to the oven and the food within. He checked it, stirred it to make sure nothing was burning, returned it to the oven and set a timer. In that time, Nevena hardly moved from where she was standing, toying with the tuft end of her braid.

"Something on your mind?" Cullen asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the counter. "You look thoughtful."

"Just something you said earlier," Nevena replied after a moment. "I wanted to ask you about it."

"Okay." Cullen stood up straight. He assumed she meant something about his past and steeled himself to answer whatever difficult questions she might put to him. "Go ahead."

"At the cable car station..." Nevena furrowed her brows. "I mean... Maker, I must sound like a thirteen-year-old asking this, but why did you tell the paramedic I was your girlfriend? I know we're meant to be keeping a facade, but I don't think my sister would pay the whole town to spy for her." She tapped her bottom lip. "I mean, she can be extreme but even _that_ is a bit much for Ineria."

"That's your question?" Cullen laughed in spite of himself, releasing a long breath. "Why I said you were my girlfriend?"

Nevena pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, "It's not that funny."

"No, no." Cullen closed the space between them until she was within arm's reach. "It's not that," he chuckled and hooked his fingers under her chin to tilt her head up. "I just... I was expecting you to ask me something about... everything I just told you." He noticed a flush rise up in her face. Maybe it was warmer in the cabin due to the oven.

"I might have questions. Later. Once I've had time to organize my thoughts on what you said," Nevena answered, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. "It's a stupid question. I shouldn't have asked-"

"I said it because it meant fewer questions," Cullen explained, the firmness of his voice cutting her off. "If I said we were friends then they would ask for next-of-kin details. They would have called my sister and I would have had to deal with her. Saying you are my girlfriend eliminates that."

"Oh," Nevena blinked owlishly. "Okay. That makes sense."

"Okay." He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before it registered what he was doing. Her skin was burning under his lips and his whole body clenched when he realised. He turned back towards the kitchen, sure his face was glowing and warmer. It was an accident, a momentary lapse on his part. There was something undeniably sweet and endearing about Nevena, something that caught him off guard. She was his client. He would need to be more vigilant around her and not be so sloppy.

He stared at the oven timer, feeling the air around him crackle and willing the numbers to descend more quickly. He planted one hand on the counter by the sink and ran the other over his mouth and chin, quietly cursing to himself for that instant of foolish judgement. It was a kiss on the forehead, nothing more and not really worth getting worked up over. But a kiss on the forehead was more familiar, tender, and intimate than most other kisses. There was a gentleness to it and he could not recall ever kissing any other of his clients in such a way. They were alone too. There was no member of her family to perform for.

It was the moment. He was emotionally drained after telling her about his past. A lapse in judgement could be excused when he was in such a raw state. It wouldn't happen again.

"Hey, Cullen?" He almost jumped when he heard her voice.

He glanced back over his shoulder. Nevena was still standing where he left her. "Yeah?"

"For what it's worth... I'm grateful you told me about your history." A pause. "And... I think I like the person you are. Mistakes and all." He watched her nod to herself and then go to the couch and sink down into the cushions.

"Thank you." Cullen muttered, more to himself than to her. His stomach coiled and dropped to his knees. He wouldn't allow himself to lose focus or slip up. Once was one time too many. This was an arrangement, one they both agreed to. One lapse in judgement could be excused. Two was risky. Three and it was habit.

He would not allow Nevena Trevelyan to become a habit.


	8. Arienne's Lament

_December 19th_

* * *

Nevena returned the leather bound journal she was eyeing up back to the stall where she found it, smiled awkwardly at the woman selling, and shuffled along to the next stall. She would come back and buy it - she was after a new journal anyway and it wasn't like the woman or the stall were going anywhere. The market was an Edgehall staple according to Ineria. People from all over came to shop, especially just before Christmas. It was also busier than usual because this was the last market there would be in Edgehall before the New Year - so many people were finishing off their last minute purchases.

Next to the stall selling leather bound books and journals was a glassware stall, where to the far back one man was shaping white hot glass; and another stood at the forefront, showing hand blown baubles to a woman in a bright red coat. Beside that was a stall selling jars of sweets in different sizes. There were stalls set up all over the main highstreet and in front of the shopping centre and people bustled around trying to get from one to the other. Nevena was alone, having become separated from her sisters, her parents, and Cullen when they arrived and was enjoying the solitude for now - even if she wasn't enjoying the being bumped into and the disapproving glares.

Visiting the market was Ineria's idea, and it was a good one. Denerim had a weekly market, but it was nothing like this, where it was bustling and nothing was the same, everything was bespoke and original. Nevena always enjoyed outdoor markets because of the variety and the choice - given enough time she always found something that caught her eye and she would take home. She remembered markets in Ostwick where she had grown up. They were larger than this, and there was always entertainment for children while the parents shopped. She hadn't been back to Ostwick since she moved to Denerim. Sometimes she thought about taking a short trip for a few days, going back and seeing what had happened to her childhood home. The idea never came to fruition. It wasn't as though there were a lot of happy memories in Ostwick, anyway.

The atmosphere was just delightful too. Since the prior evening and the long discussion they had, the air in the cabin and between Cullen and Nevena was a little tense. Maybe, in part, because he'd divulged so much personal information, but Nevena believed it was more to do with how much better she knew him now. It was almost like he was waiting for her to tell him something about herself. That now he shared his past with her, it was her obligation to do the same. He didn't say it, but that was the impression Nevena got.

She wanted to. She didn't like clamming up every time the thought of her ex or the mere hint of him came up. And she felt like she owed Cullen a more personal insight into the person she was. He was honest and upfront with her, after all. There was that fear, though. Roselyn knew the truth about her past relationship and the personal revelations that came before the breakup. Roselyn knew, because Nevena trusted her implicitly and because she knew Roselyn wouldn't judge. Alistair knew bits and pieces, because Roselyn told him when Nevena said she could.

Telling Cullen... would open a whole new can of worms. She didn't want him to judge her harshly for her behaviour. She didn't want him to see her in a negative light or to turn on her because she didn't act in the best way when she ended things.

His opinion mattered. The way he felt towards her mattered. She hated to admit it to herself, but the way he looked at her mattered. He looked at her with warmth and softness. A look that had been absent from her last relationship and the last three years. Every time she saw it, her insides squirmed and the hairs all over her body prickled. She blushed around him like an inexperienced school girl and it was humiliating, thrilling, and completely inappropriate.

The previous night, she had gone to bed repeating over and over that their relationship was fake. It was an arrangement and that she needed to get control of herself. If she didn't... She was worried that when their contract came to an end, it would hurt more than it should. She couldn't afford to grow fond of him and get tingly whenever he was within arm's reach. No matter how nice it felt now, it would end, and possibly end badly. She did not want that. Not when she believed and hoped maybe when all was said and done they could be friends. Friends would be enough - at least that was what she tried to convince herself of. He wouldn't want her anyway, not if he knew the truth.

Feeling weary, she found a seat on one of the benches dotted randomly between stalls and sat on the edge. An old man beside her rustled his newspaper noisily as though her sitting disturbed him. She scooted further to the edge putting space between them until she was all but hanging off the bench. He grumbled under his breath and opened his arms to better read his newspaper. Nevena's face warmed and she stared down at her hands, debating whether to apologize for disturbing him.

Maker, she was a feeble excuse for a human being.

"Nevena?" Hearing her name she turned her head in the direction of the voice. Standing about five feet away was her mother, , wrapped up warmly in a thick navy coat and a fur lined hood. Her mother was always well dressed and now was no different. She reminded Nevena of glamorous old movie stars who retired into obscurity.

"Hey," she waved and got to her feet.

"Horses eat hay, Nevena." Katrin remarked approaching her. "Say 'hello'."

"Sorry..." Nevena smiled warily. She slipped her hands into the pockets of her winter jacket before she saw her mother purse her lips at the gesture and quickly removed them. "Uhm... where's dad?" Nevena asked. Last time she had seen her parents, they were together and being dragged somewhere by Clotilde and Owen.

"Talking to your sister." Katrin addressed Nevena but didn't so much as glance at her. She was looking around at the people, the stalls, the goings on around her with something like a sneer of distaste on her face. As if being around so many people was personally insulting to her.

"Oh." Nevena nodded.

"Stop slouching." Katrin grabbed Nevena's shoulders. "Oh - and don't _flinch_ , for goodness's sake, I'm not going to hit you."

"Sorry, sorry!" Allowing her mother to adjust her stance was easier than arguing, Nevena learned that some time ago. She stood still while Katrin straightened her shoulders, prodded her stomach until Nevena breathed in, and nudged her back until it was straight. It was a ritual Nevena remember from her childhood and it still hurt even to this day to keep her back as ridged as she did now.

"What were you doing?"

"Sitting."

"Don't be clever, Nevena. It doesn't suit you." Katrin started walking and Nevena followed like an obedient spaniel - all she was missing was the collar and leash. The sea of people parted for Katrin as though there was an invisible barrier around her that pushed them aside. Nevena was slightly in awe of it. Katrin never moved for other people, even in a busy situation such as this. They moved for her. And if they did not, Katrin could simply glare them into submission. "Now, what are you buying Cullen for Christmas? Or have you already bought him something?"

Nevena came to her mother's side when she stopped to look over a silversmith's stall. There were trays of rings, bracelets, necklaces all in different sizes and styles for both men and women. Katrin picked up a copper bangle similar to one Nevena's father wore. Apparently it warded off gout and other ailments.

"I don't know." Nevena shrugged her shoulders and immediately winced. She waited for the reprimand from her mother, relaxing after a few seconds when it didn't come. Katrin was too occupied by the stall. "I hadn't thought about it."

"You hadn't thought about?" Katrin looked at her, a fine brow arched. She was not an ugly woman, or even a nasty woman but she had been brought up with certain standards she was expected to meet, and she inflicted those same standards on her daughters. Nevena never came close to Katrin's expectations and it caused a rift between them from as early in her childhood that Nevena could remember. Katrin's upbringing also caused her to be quite aloof towards her children. She was never warm, or one for physical affection. She never read to Nevena or her sisters when they were young, or coddled them after a nightmare. She loved them - at least Nevena believed she loved them - but she was not a kindly person to be brought up by.

"No," Nevena said. "Neither of us are particularly big on gift giving." She lied, hoping the explanation would be satisfactory.

"Odd," Katrin sniffed primly. She put the bangle back where she found it and picked up another bracelet of thick silver with a rope pattern etched into it. "You should. You'll never keep someone like that happy with just yourself, Nevena."

Nevena stared ahead for a moment, stunned. The man behind the stall, who was clearly not trying to be obvious while listening to their conversation, looked between her and Katrin, before turning to address another customer. Nevena blinked hard, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Katrin put the bracelet down. "Well, don't get defensive, darling." She pinched the end of Nevena's chin. "I simply mean you'll have to try hard to keep his interest. Attractive men like him - they get bored and," Katrin looked her up and down, "he could do better."

"Wow," Nevena scoffed, torn between feeling appalled, insulted, and angry. "That's..." She puffed her cheeks out. "Yeah. That's... something." She stepped away from her mother. "I'm going to go. Now. Before I do or say something I'll regret."

Katrin watched her backstepping into the people walking past, "You're being too sensitive. I'm trying to help."

"Didn't ask, mum," Nevena turned on her heel. "Didn't ask." She elbowed her way into the throngs of people, hoping that the numbers would help her disappear. Now irritated and fuming she walked against the flow of people, hoping to put as much space between herself and Katrin. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Katrin rarely had anything nice to say about anyone, but Nevena remembered being on the receiving end of her mother's snide and underhanded comments far more than her sisters.

It made sense, if she rationalized it. Ineria was the oldest and the most like Katrin in looks and personality. Clotilde was the over achiever when she was at school and never put a foot wrong. Arienne was the angel of the four of them. She was blameless in everything she did - even if something going wrong was her fault, Arienne never got into trouble. And then there was Nevena herself. The last child - and one that arrived as a replacement for the son her parents lost not long before. At least, that was what Nevena believed. She'd never approached her parents about it, she knew it was a difficult subject, even now. And even though her parents were not the warmest of people, they were not made of stone. If they had survived the loss of a child, Nevena was not cruel enough to open old wounds for her own sense of self.

Nevena realised she was puffing as she walked and quickly ducked to the side of the market between two stalls. She fished her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the list of names.

 _[Nevena]  
Hey, this place is a madhouse. Where are you? Need to ask about something._

She sent the message and waited for a response. Stuffing her hands in her pockets - extra deep, just to spite her mother - she turned on the spot, first one way and then the other. She stood on her toes and craned her neck trying to see over the people coming and going in the hopes she might spot Cullen.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

 _[Cullen]  
There's a wood working stall near the far end towards the ice rink. I'm with Rowan. You alright?_

Nevena smiled to herself. She liked that he was spending time with one of her nephews. She liked more how he asked after her. Even if it was just out of politeness and there was no real sentiment behind it, the question still made her stomach wriggle happily. She ignored it and tapped out a reply.

 _[Nevena]  
I'm okay. You? You're not stressed with the amount of people? Let me know if you need to get some space, or something. I'm coming to the stall. Don't move._

After sending the message, she stepped back into the steady stream of people and began to weave through their bodies. She inched around people crowding around different stalls, excused herself and apologized when people bumped into her. She was small, after all, and everyone was distracted by the stalls and shiny things being presented to them. Her phone vibrated again in her pocket but she chose not to read it until she wasn't surrounded by people. Knowing her luck she would get bumped and her phone would go flying.

It took a good ten minutes for her to find the woodworking stall. It was at the completely opposite end of the market from where she started and people did not move, even when asked repeatedly. The wood carving stall was set a little further away from the others and out of the main thoroughfare, but there were a number of customers looking at the good laid out on a large number of tables. There were wooden ornaments in the shape of ducks, chickens, owls and other birds that were for gardens. Several large benches made out of drift wood were currently being bartered over, and there was a wire tree erected on one table to display small wooden Christmas tree decorations.

Cullen stood with Rowan at one table, the two of them looking pensive and staring down at the space between them. As Nevena approached she noticed between them was a beautifully hand carved chess set, with the pieces carved in the same coloured woods as the board squares. She picked up one of Rowan's discarded knights to look more closely. She could make out the mane of the horses head detailed in the wood, even the eye and the nostrils. Each piece was lovingly crafted and could stand alone as pieces of art.

"Who's winning?" Nevena asked, putting the piece down.

"He is," Rowan groaned, huffing.

"To be fair," Cullen smirked, "Rowan's giving me a run for my money. He has a lot of interesting strategies."

"Good job," Nevena ruffled her nephew's hair.

Rowan batted her hand away, smoothed his hair down and then reached out a hand. His fingers hovered over a bishop for a few seconds, then moved to a pawn. He moved it one square and grinned at Cullen, smugly.

Cullen leaned back to survey the board. "Checkmate." He moved a rook into position.

"What?!" Rowan gaped. "Where?"

"Here." Cullen pointed to the rook. "Here," to his Queen, "and here." He pointed to a bishop. "Sorry."

Rowan knocked his King piece over with a flick of his index finger. "Stupid game, anyway."

"Rowan..." Nevena shook her head watching him as he dashed away towards the ice rink. "Sore loser."

"Should I have let him win?" Cullen asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I let him win a couple before this."

Nevena squinted at him. "How many games have you played?"

"Four," Cullen smiled. "Would you care for a game?" He gestured to the board with an open hand. "I'll go easy on you."

"Gee, thanks." Nevena made a face in reply and started to set up the black pieces on her side of the board. "I think I remember the rules. This should be interesting."

Chuckling, Cullen straightened his pieces and waited for Nevena to finish setting her own up. "I used to play far more than I do now," he explained. He pushed one pawn forward one space. "My parents taught us, and my older sister would get this smug grin on her face whenever she won, which was all the time." Nevena moved one of her own pawns. "I practiced with my brother day and night." Cullen brought his Queen out on a diagonal.

"Bringing out the big guns?"

"Maybe," he grinned. "I can still remember the look on my sister's face the day I finally won."

"I bet you're a terribly smug winner." Nevena moved another pawn to block his Queen.

"Checkmate." Cullen moved the Queen across the white diagonal squares to the edge of the board. He pointed at the direction it could move in to capture Nevena's King.

"Ah..." Nevena's mouth fell open. "How... I mean..." She shook her head. "That was three moves. You must have cheated."

Cullen laughed, a deep rumbling chuckle, "I can. But with you I don't think I need to."

"You were distracting me!" Nevena pointed out. "Another game. I want to play white this time."

"As you wish." Cullen bowed graciously and turned the board around so the white pieces were in front of Nevena. She moved the pieces back into place. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked, waiting with folded arms for Nevena to move her piece.

"I had an... interesting conversation with my mother."

"Really?" snorted Cullen.

"I won't go into it." Nevena pushed a pawn forward. "But she did make a point. Have you thought about Christmas presents?"

"Not really." Cullen moved a pawn two spaces and leaned back. "What about them?"

"Well, she asked me what I was getting you. When I said nothing, I said it was because we're not really much into gift giving."

"Okay."

"But," Nevena nudged another pawn out of formation onto the next square. "The more I think about it, the more I think it will look kind of weird if we don't have at least something for each other to open on Christmas day. Even if it's something stupid and small."

Cullen moved a bishop across the board. "Okay." Nevena brought out a knight. "Makes sense. It would look kind of off." He moved his Queen across the board.

"So, ground rules." Nevena frowned at the board, tapping her fingers on a pawn yet to move. "Nothing lavish. Nothing super expensive. Something silly would be fine. But just something so no one gets... weird." She finally moved another pawn.

"Weird would be bad." Cullen's initial pawn jumped onto a square Nevena's pawn occupied. He disposed of her white piece beside the board. "What if I pretended to propose?" he smirked.

Nevena's face exploded with heat and she stared at him, unable to conceal her shock and disbelief. Even though she knew he was in no way serious, the expression on his face gave her pause for a few heartbeats. Then she shook her head. "Don't even joke about that. My family would never forgive me if I ended _another_ engagement. Even a fake one."

"Fair enough," Cullen chuckled. "Oh, and checkmate."

Nevena stared down at the board and she planted her hands on the table. "I hate you."

"That's uncalled for," teased Cullen. "I'll have to teach you."

"Don't mock me. You'll make me laugh, bitterly." Nevena leaned across the table, chin lifted in a challenge. "Let's do something I'm good at."

"All right." Cullen mirrored her, leaning on the opposite side and inching forward. He clicked his tongue and his mouth slipped into a crooked smile which made Nevena's stomach drop to her knees. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

What Nevena had in mind was something Cullen was not skilled at in any way and realised very quickly she vastly outmatched him. He stood outside of the barrier of the ice rink, rental skates yet to be put on, at the ground by his feet. From his vantage point he had a good view of the whole rink. From afar it did not appear very big, but up close Cullen realised it stretched approximately the length and width of a football field. A small section at one end was cordoned off for young children using their parents or penguin shaped aids to keep their balance. The rest of the area was open to skaters and despite how busy the market was, the ice rink was not over populated.

Dotted around on the ice were stewards in luminous yellow jackets. Whenever anyone fell over or people collided, they were with them in seconds to help them off the ice and deal with any issues or injuries. When they weren't dealing with patrons, they were skating around and offering advice those on the ice having trouble with balance or speed.

Nevena did not need any assistance; not a hand to hold or a word of instruction though one steward offered it when she first stepped on the ice. When Arienne mentioned that Nevena could skate Cullen assumed she meant Nevena could stay upright and go forward at speed without crashing. It turned out she could do that and more.

After making a couple of circuits on the ice, as if to get comfortable on the skates, Nevena's legitimate skill became very clear. She made circuits going backwards, watching out for other skaters behind her and weaving in between them without tripping and without hesitation. When space allowed she jumped small distances, hopping off one skate to land on the other. A few times Cullen watched her go into fast spins, drawing her arms into her body and spreading them again to go back into a normal forward skate. She was quick, and agile, and wore an expression of pure joy on her face whenever Cullen glimpsed it.

He took his phone from his pocket and followed her with the camera, snapping a few photographs and recording a short video while he watched. He was not eager to go onto the ice. Snow he could handle, but skating was something he had tried only once in his teens and could not remember enjoying much. The option to skate was there, and he knew it would be a shame to waste the opportunity. He was simply gathering his courage. Even if Dante was proving he had more courage by venturing into the child's area without assistance.

"She's good, isn't she?" Cullen stopped the video he was recording when he heard Arienne's voice. She leaned on the barrier next to him and looked out over the ice rink. Immediately Cullen's guard was up. Since his conversation with Clotilde, there had not been an opportunity for him to talk to any of Nevena's other sisters. He was grateful, given how the discussion with Clotilde went. Ineria and Clotilde certainly seemed to be the least kind of the three. Arienne, at least from what Cullen had seen of her so far, just seemed flighty and excitable, not particularly threatening.

"Yes." He put his phone in his pocket. "When you said she skated at a championship level, I thought you might have been over playing it." He watched Nevena zip past them, blonde hair blowing over her face. "But I can see she really knows what she's doing."

"Did you get some good photos?"

"I think so." Cullen half-smiled. "I hope so."

"Me too." Arienne tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear. "Nevena's never liked being photographed. And we don't have any up-to-date ones of her."

"Oh." Cullen chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "Well, if she's happy with them, maybe she'll let me get a couple printed and you can have a more recent photo?"

Arienne's mouth broke into a beaming smile, "I hope so!" She touched Cullen's arm. "It's really good to see her again. After so long... and only getting the occasional email... I was starting to worry." She looked back over the ice rink and waved. Cullen followed the direction and saw Nevena skating backwards with Matilda's hands in hers, guiding the girl over the ice.

Cullen held his tongue as long as possible, a question almost scalding his mouth with its urge to be asked. "Why did you only start to worry after almost three years?" He closed his eyes for a moment cursing his curiosity and the apparent lack of self control he normally prided himself on. Asking personal questions abruptly was normally not his style.

He waited for Arienne to snap at him, or to tell him it was none of his business. After a few seconds he let out a breath he was holding and chanced to look at her. He saw an expression of disquiet on her face. It didn't suit Arienne at all to look so perturbed and uneasy. She picked the nails on her hands one after the other, shifted her weight and sighed. Each gesture almost made to build up her own courage to speak.

"She stopped skating because of Rick." Arienne said finally. She did not look at Cullen, rather she kept her gaze out over the ice rink. "He wanted her to stop doing a lot of things, and she did. I asked her why once... she just shrugged."

"She stopped skating because of her ex?" Cullen repeated, leaning on the barrier and turning his body to face her. "She's not talked about him much."

"That doesn't surprise me," Arienne smiled a little. "Rick was... _bad_ for Nevena. They were set up on a blind date by our dad, and Rick fell so hard and so fast for Nevvie, it was kind of alarming. She wasn't that interested in him, but our dad kept pushing her to go out on dates with Rick, and she did, to keep him happy. I think she got kind of trapped into the relationship because of dad. She stopped telling us she didn't really like him. We thought she'd just warmed up to him."

His brow furrowed, Cullen adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He found it odd that Arienne was being so open with him regarding Rick. The rest of Nevena's family seemed defensive about him. To hear anything that was not a resounding compliment about Rick was a surprise.

He did not want to let the chance to find out more get away from him. "Did you like him? Rick, I mean?"

"Not really," Arienne shrugged. She clasped her hands in front of her. "He always struck me as kind of a child. He lived on his dad's money and was certain he was going to inherit from him." She paused and pursed her lips. "They weren't a good match."

"How so?" Cullen arched a brow. He looked out over the ice rink to see where Nevena was. Last thing he wanted was for her to over hear him and Arienne discussing her personal life without her knowledge. Somehow he doubted that would go over well. He spotted her still with Matilda half way across the ice.

"Just little things." Arienne said after a lengthy silence. "He was so protective of her... too much, really. Whenever we would all get together, he never left her alone. And he would get upset if she went off to do something without him, so she stopped. He didn't like her skating, so she quit. She even stopped wearing dresses, and shorts in the summer because he didn't like other people staring."

"Is this what Nevena told you?"

Arienne shook her head. "No, this is stuff I noticed. Mum's birthday is in July, and one year it was boiling hot. It was just us, and Nevena was wearing a summer dress, not even terribly revealing and around family..." She laughed weakly. "He looked odd when she came out, and practically dragged her out of the room. I thought he was just... you know," she blushed, "but I overheard him later... I swear, I thought he was going to have a stroke. He was _so_ mad at her."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I never really questioned it. I thought it was just a one-time thing. I agreed with my sisters, my parents, that he was just being a good partner, worried about her." Her mouth quirked to one side. "Monty and I had marriage counselling a year ago. It was only through that, and personal one-on-one therapy I realised what was really going on.

"I see..." Cullen rubbed his chin. He turned to face out onto the ice again uncertain what to say. If there even _was_ anything to say. This was sensitive information. Information he would have preferred to hear from Nevena, but the more Arienne told him the more he was beginning to understand Nevena's reluctance to talk about her past with Rick.

"I should have put it together sooner. I'm ashamed, really," Arienne told him after they stood for a while in silence. When Cullen looked at her, he could see her cheeks were flush with colour and her eyes were glassy. "When she broke it off with him I didn't support her. I joined everyone else in telling her what a mistake it was." She shook her head, "I even gave him one of her new phone numbers after she blocked him for the third or fourth time. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Arienne," Cullen sighed bowing his head. He clasped his hands and wound his fingers together. "If you're looking for some sort of absolution or forgiveness, you really should be talking to Nevena."

"I know." She turned to him. "And I want to. But..." She bit her lip and ruffled her hair. "Honestly, I feel like I left it too long. It's been three years. For the first year, I didn't hear from her _at all_. What if it's too little, too late?"

Cullen released a slow breath and closed his eyes for a moment. How, in the Maker's name, had he allowed himself to become a sounding board for her? He was getting in too deep, learning too much about Nevena from other sources. Even if what Arienne said was true, and Cullen did not want to doubt her, how much of it was embellished and how much of it was underplayed? Nevena and Rick's relationship was over three years ago - how good could Arienne's memory be? How honest and factual could her account be? Was it reliable? Was her approaching him like this a test, to see if he agreed or would buckle? Given how Clotilde spoke to him he was not willing to put such a ploy past her.

He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching the back of his head and craning his neck, stretching. "I don't think Nevena is the kind of person who wouldn't accept an apology. If it's genuine and sincere," he explained measuring each word as he said it. "No matter how much time it's been." Turning to face Arienne he levelled her with a hard stare. "But you should be talking to Nevena about this. Not me. I'm not going to be an adjudicator between you. You're her sister, and I don't want to be in the middle." Cullen hoped his tone added an essence of finality to his words.

Before Arienne could speak again, Nevena skidded up to the barrier her face flushed scarlet, hair a tangled mess and a broad smile on her face. "Come on." She grabbed Cullen's forearms. "Where are your skates?"

"On the ground by my feet," he replied, hoping he sounded as at ease as he was trying to come across. "Where I intend them to stay."

Nevena grunted a little. "Nooo!" she whined, dangling her head back dramatically while hanging onto the barrier. She span on the spot. "Don't be so lame. Come on!" She slid her feet back and forth several times on the ice. She remained in place, while giving the illusion of movement. "It's fun! I've got Matilda skating on her own, and she's never skated once!"

"Matilda is younger than me, and probably less likely to fall over."

"Excuses," Nevena retorted. She fixed him with a stare, and pouted. "C'mon, please? You said I could teach you if we went skating."

"I did, didn't I?" Cullen grimaced a little, while rubbing his forehead. He felt her eyes on him, and Arienne's, both boring into him. Burning right through him. With an exaggerated groan he dropped his hands to his sides, retrieved his skates from the ground and held them up as if to make a point. Nevena grinned, pleased with her apparent victory and almost appeared to bounce with excitement. She skated along the barrier, following Cullen as he went to an area where chairs were set up and skaters were either removing or putting on their skates.

After wrestling with the skates for a few minutes, disliking how the rentals pinched his heels and his toes all felt crammed together at the end, Cullen gingerly put one step on the ice. He held the barrier in tense fingers, feeling unsteady, like he would slip over at any moment. That feeling did not decrease when he put the other skate on the ice and inched forward without moving a toe. His grip on the barrier only increased in pressure and he could not bring himself to be even a little embarrassed about his trepidation.

Nevena did not help. She giggled about five feet away though - to her credit - tried to hide her amusement behind her gloved hands. When Cullen felt steady on his feet, or at least as steady as being on ice could feel, he glared at her.

"You're not helping."

"I'm sorry," Nevena pushed forward towards him. "You just look so afraid of the ice."

"I've skated once."

"We all start somewhere!" She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, so try to stand up straight..." Nevena nudged his back. "Keep your knees soft, it'll give you more control about direction and balance. But back straight, bring your bum in..." She leaned back. "You're going to have to let go of the barrier eventually."

Cullen narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced between her face and her out stretched hands. Despite his uncertainty, he let go with one hand and quickly snatched up Nevena's hand in the hopes of keeping his balance. After a few seconds, he did the same with the other hand. He shuddered on the ice, skimming his feet back and forth to try and balance. He felt utterly ridiculous. Even as he grasped her hands he knew he must look like a fool. He was almost bent over at a ninety degree angle, his body practically parallel to the ice.

At least his knees were bent.

"Okay, we're going to start moving." He watched Nevena's skates slide back and forth. She skated backwards gently pulling him with her. The barrier was still within arm's reach and each time Cullen's skates slipped a little he felt an over whelming panic and an urge to grab the edge of the rink to save himself from falling. Nevena held his hands gently but firmly. He could snatch his hand away if necessary, but she was in total control of guiding him. "Can you move your feet?"

"What'll happen?"

She laughed, "You'll create your own forward motion. It's just a pushing one skate at a time to the side to give you the projection." They began to follow the bend at one end of the rink. Cullen tightened his hold on Nevena's hands. "Try and stand up."

"This position feels fine."

"I know it does, but if you fall over in that position you're going to hurt yourself. You have more control over speed and movement by standing up right." Cullen's skates slipped over the ice as he tried to follow her request. He straightened, though could still feel he was lurching over a little at the waist. He saw Nevena checking behind her for people as she skated them both around. "Better?" she asked, glancing at him.

"I feel very stupid," said Cullen.

"Don't be harsh on yourself." Nevena slowed their speed a little and moved them a small distance from the barrier to go around a pair of younger children skating together. "When you skate on your own, you'll want to keep your arms out for balance."

"That's hilarious. I will not be skating on my own."

Nevena turned her gaze on him, determination etched on her face, "Oh, ye of little faith."

Over the course of two hours Cullen was able to find his own feet on the ice. Though not a hobby he would ever take up in the long term, he was beginning to see the attraction. It was good exercise, and a careful mixture of balance, weight, and concentration. He crashed into the barriers whenever he needed to stop - still not able to stop independently - but he considered skating _at all_ to be quite an achievement. He never strayed far from the barriers, still automatically going to reach for them when he felt himself wobbling, and Nevena never strayed far from him. She skated within arm's reach and seemed to have a sixth sense for when he was feeling shaky. Every few minutes as he skated alone she took his hand to take the pressure off so he could fix his posture and not worry so much about the impending fall onto the ice.

He had yet to fall. But it was coming. He knew it was coming. It was inevitable.

The transformation of Nevena here was immense. Much like when they went skiing, she was a different person. Here she was bright and effervescent. She was in her element and it showed on her face how much she was enjoying herself. There was no hint of the meekness and uncertainty he saw in her around her family. Even knowing her sisters and parents might be watching, on the ice she seemed to forget that she was under their critical gaze and she could relax.

The end of the ice rink which was cordoned off for young children was the part Cullen disliked most. There was no barrier from one side to the other, and that interval looked like an ocean and felt like it took a year to cross. He saw it coming up and flexed his fingers in anticipation. He followed the other skaters, shaking on his feet and turning at a wide angle. A young woman crossed in front of him, too close for his liking. Cullen tried to move out of the way, one skate slid out from under him. He reached for Nevena, grabbed her hand and in the time it took to blink found himself flat on his back on the ice and staring up at the grey sky.

He groaned, feeling a pain in his lower back. He could breath though, so clearly wasn't winded which he was grateful for. His hands were empty though and he patted them around blindly until he found the head and shoulders of Nevena, half way down his torso.

"Are you okay?" Nevena asked, lifting her head and pushing her hair out of her face. "That was quite a fall. Anything hurt?"

"My pride," Cullen said. "And my tail bone. Sweet Maker, that hurts."

"Ice does," Nevena remarked. She placed her hands on either side of Cullen's head and leaned over him. "I think you'll live to fight another day."

Cullen rolled his eyes. Then a roguish smile came to his lips. "You know, Miss. Trevelyan, we _really_ should stop meeting like this," he teased, chuckling softly.

Nevena lifted her brows, clearly surprised by his attempt at playfulness. She tutted a moment later, "well, Mr. Rutherford, how else am I meant to react if you _insist_ on falling for me"Ugh." Cullen grinned.

"Bad?"

" _Terrible."_

"My work here is done," Nevena poked her tongue out.

Cullen laughed, pushing himself up onto his hands. One of the stewards skidded to a stop as Cullen sat up right. Nevena leaned back and the steward helped Cullen to his feet. He went for the barrier and held tight. The steward offered a hand to Nevena and Cullen watched her rise onto her knees and then to her feet. A look of pain shot across her face and she gasped.

"What's wrong?" asked the steward, putting himself between Nevena and Cullen as he brought her to the barrier.

"I must have landed on my ankle," Nevena explained.

Cullen pushed off from the barrier and skated around the steward to be the other side of Nevena so she now stood between himself and the steward. "Can you put any weight on it?"

"Not really." Nevena's cheeks were pink with embarrassment now. "It might just be twisted."

"Best get off the ice, take your weight off it," the steward told her.

Cullen saw Nevena's face fall. He had witnessed how much she loved the ice rink, and skating, and it was clear how much she did not want to leave it. She placed her right foot on the ice adding her weight and quickly removed it, gasping. "We can come back." Cullen said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're here for a while yet."

"Yeah..." Nevena forced a smile. "I know."

"Best to get off the ice and make sure it's nothing serious," the steward added.

Nevena gave a resigned nod, her brows knitting together in a mixture of frustration and suppressed pain. "Okay." She looped one arm around the steward's shoulder and the other around Cullen's taking all the weight off her right foot. He slipped an arm around her waist, bringing her tight into his side. Together they escorted her to the nearest exit in the barrier and off the ice.

It did not escape Cullen's notice how all the enjoyment in Nevena's face and body seemed to drain away as soon as they hit solid ground. He removed his skates and pulled on his shoes in silence, almost able to feel her disappointment ebbing off her. He knelt down in front of her and began to unlace her boots.

"It's okay. I can-"

"Let me." Cullen lifted his head to look at her directly. "In case there's swelling." His fingers paused in the laces, stopped by the brief glimmer of a grateful smile that flitted across her lips.

"Thank you." Her shoulders sagged.

Leaning up on his knees, Cullen pushed her hair out of her face with one hand. "Any time." For a few seconds, time seemed to stop completely and he found he was torn. Torn between the laces in her skates, and the shape of her mouth. How kissable it looked, her lips slightly parted. It wasn't just her lips that tempted him, he realised. It was everything about her as he peered up from the ground. Open, honest eyes, the flush to her cheeks, the way her hair was touseled, messy, and framed her features.

He could feel the thud of her pulse in her neck increase the longer they stared at each other, neither one breaking the gaze as it lengthened moment by moment. Her breath hitched when Cullen accidentl brushed her lower lip with the tip of his thumb. Her eyelids fluttered and he felt her beginning to lean forwards moving closer to him.

The gleeful squeal of a child shocked him and he suddenly remembered where they were and their situation. The fog that invaded his mind lifted suddenly and Cullen broke the gaze, turning his attention back to her skates and her laces. He shook her head to clear his mind, and his stomach relaxed. When he glanced up at Nevena, breathing in deep, he saw her gaze was no longer on him. That she was staring into nothing and she was chasing her breath as if it was helping her centre herself.

 _Maker_ \- he was tempted to kiss her. The tips of his ears and his neck were burning. He needed to get a grip, to be reasonable and stop his fanciful thoughts before he followed through with thim. Nevena was a client, just like any other client.

Whatever he felt for her, it was fake. It was _all_ fake.


	9. Cullen vs Nevan

_December 19th, mid-afternoon_

* * *

Cullen slumped down into the cushions of the couch. A small spark of pain shot up his spine from his lower back, causing him to conceal a low groan and a grimace. Stretching out his legs, he leaned his head back to rest on the plush cushions and closed his eyes, determined to relax for a few minutes.

The drive up from Edgehall to the manor house at Haven felt like it took forever. The pain in his back was not terrible, but spending time on the ice was tiring and he was wrestling with a headache caused, he believed, by hitting his head on the ice. Everyone else was busy and bustling around in the other rooms. As soon as they arrived, Ineria announced she'd start dinner and everyone was to stay. Dante, Rowan, and Matilda all disappeared up to their rooms out of the way, while Nevena's sisters and their partners all piled into the kitchen with Ineria and Josef.

Without drawing attention to himself, in the chaos Cullen slipped away from the group to find a quiet place to relax for ten or fifteen minutes. He needed it. The energy of the market had taken a lot out of him and he simply needed some peace to recharge before involving himself with dinner and further interaction with Nevena's family. The retriever, Beau, accompanied him, and now sat curled up on the floor by Cullen's feet. A welcome companion.

He also needed the time to clear his head. Even though the drive back to Haven was not awkward in the slightest, Cullen felt certain that there was unspoken tension growing between himself and Nevena. He had _almost_ kissed her and knew he should not have. Should not have even been tempted to. Even if their arrangement allowed for it, there were specific circumstances under which intimate exchanges were allowed When he unlaced her boots at the ice rink there had been none of her sisters around, neither of her parents - it was an impulse. One he almost followed. He wondered what would have happened if his focus on her had not been shattered.

Even though he had been able to resist temptation there was feeling of conflict roiling around in his chest. He was becoming too familiar with her, too friendly and comfortable. The lines between their professional relationship and the genuine and growing friendship he felt forming between them were becoming blurred. He was beginning to care for her more and more. His heart was starting to take over his head. It did not help his confusion remembering that she seemed to want to reciprocate. That she leaned towards him with as much intent as he had.

Maybe it wasn't just him who was beginning to feel conflicted. Maybe she could see the waters growing muddied too. Maybe she didn't care. Maybe she did, and was too polite to say anything. Feelings weren't meant to be involved in these situations. In the past, he had managed to maintain a professional distance from his clients and, in several cases, was able to stay friends with them. Of course, none of those arrangements were for more than a day. And none of those women were Nevena Trevelyan.

Cullen rubbed his eyes and groaned quietly.

There was something about her he could not quite put his finger on that drew him towards her. The day they met in Red Jenny's he felt an instant spark, even though she was a nervous and fidgety greyhound at first. She was honest, he liked that about her. There was no pretence; the person she presented was the person she was. She _was_ nervous and jumpy, but she was also warm, and bright, and he got the sense that she was a good person. And genuinely _good_ people were rare, especially when they endured years of torment at the hands of their family... But then, maybe that was what made her a good person - having experienced the negativity most of her life she chose not to let it harden her, rather it made her more sympathetic.

He wasn't sure. If Cullen was totally honest with himself, he wasn't sure about much of anything right at that moment. He enjoyed her company, of that he was certain. They got on, and he found her attractive both in looks and personality - another two things he was certain of. Beyond that it was all a mystery. Whether the feelings and impulses he was experiencing were genuine or brought about because of the situation, he didn't know. And whether what he was beginning to experience was mirrored in Nevena was also a mystery.

He hated mysteries.

The logical thing to do was to discuss it. He wondered if he should apologize for the almost-kiss at the ice rink and if doing so might clear the air. But then, that could open up a whole new can of issues. What if she didn't think he was trying to kiss her? Could she be that oblivious? If she wasn't, and he apologised, would she be outraged or confused? Would she think he regretted trying to kiss her? Or would she think he regretted _not_ kissing her? The kiss hadn't happened, and Cullen didn't think he would have regretted it if it had… but now he was starting to regret thinking about it over and over in his mind. Maybe they just needed to reiterate the ground rules of this working relationship. He didn't know, and he was sick of ruminating about it.

"There you are." Cullen cracked an eye open to the sound of Nevena's voice and one of the floor boards creaking. She was wrapping a bright blue ice pack in a dish towel. Beau chuffed and his tail wagged, thumping on the floor. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Cullen shifted on the couch to make room. Nevena limped when she walked and flopped down beside him. She curled her right leg up and applied the cold compress to her ankle. "Just needed a few minutes to myself."

"Sorry for interrupting. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Cullen sighed and smiled wearily. "Stay. You're not bothering me."

She smiled, pleased. "Glad I'm not a bother." Cullen watched her adjust the ice pack on her ankle, a little grimace causing a crease to appear between her brows. "Ineria put the kettle on down stairs if you want tea or coffee."

"Maybe later." He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his head back on the cushions again. He and Nevena sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. The silence let Cullen's mind empty and despite his earlier thoughts about his and Nevena's working relationship, he felt more at ease with her there. Being alone in Ineria's house - unfortunately, Beau did not count - he was concerned about one of Nevena's sisters or her parents ambushing him. At least with Nevena there, she could act as a buffer. "How's your ankle?" he asked after a while, turning his head to the side.

"Sore," Nevena shrugged a shoulder and gave an amused smile. "But I'll soldier through it."

"Want me to have a look?" Cullen straightened up a little on the sofa now he felt more recharged. Nevena quirked a brow at him. "Part of my job _is_ sports therapy, I know something about sport injuries."

"It's not bad," Nevena said. "I don't want to cause an imposition."

"Nevena." Cullen levelled her with a look. "I'm offering. If it was an imposition I wouldn't have offered. Now give me your foot."

After a moment's pause she began to shift in her seat. She leaned back against the arm of the sofa and stretched her right leg out, placing her foot gingerly in Cullen's hands. "Sorry if my feet are sweaty."

"Believe me," Cullen side-eyed her, "sweaty feet are part of the job." He pulled the hem of her sock down until it was around her heel and gently started to work is thumbs around her ankle applying small amounts of pressure. Her skin was slightly red around the joint, and there was a tiny amount of swelling. "Can you wriggle your toes for me?" She did. "And you feel this?" He ran his forefinger along the underside of her foot. She jerked, almost kicking him. "I'll take that as a yes." A smirk curled his lips.

"I'm ticklish."

Cullen lifted both brows and smiled broadly at her. "Really?"

"I don't like that look," Nevena remarked. "Stop making that face."

Chuckling, Cullen returned his attention to her foot and continued to move his thumbs around her ankle and the lower part of her leg. Every time he noticed Nevena wince or her foot jerked in response to where he was touching, he lessened the pressure, not wanting to cause more pain or further damage.

"Well, the good news is your ankle is not broken," he declared. Nevena pretended to wipe sweat from her brow in mock relief. "You have a mild sprain." He reached for the ice pack and carefully placed it over her ankle, holding it down on the affected area. "You're going to need to keep your weight off it for a day or so. And remember RICES."

"RICES?"

"Rest, ice, compression, elevation, and support." Cullen explained, "best way to deal with a sprain."

"Are you going to wait on me hand and foot, then?" she teased, perching her head on a fist and her elbow on the couch arm.

Cullen arched a brow, "Play your cards right."

Nevena chuckled and again they fell into relaxed silence. Cullen hoped his expression remained still, even as he berated himself for his words. He was flirting with her, and needed to stop. That was one thing only making their relationship more complex and messy than it needed to be. He should never have started flirting in the first place, but he did it in the hopes it would help her relax around her family. He never intended for the flirtation to become real. Even now, looking after her foot and making sure it wasn't seriously injured, that wasn't _just_ a professional courtesy. He could have told her simply to get it checked out at hospital if it got worse or hurt. He didn't _need_ to check it over himself. But he did, and he had. All in the effort to be closer and in his eagerness to enjoy her company.

He was getting in over his head. He needed to back off.

"You're grinding your teeth." Nevena snapped him from his thoughts and he blinked back into the room.

"Sorry," he smiled briefly. "Thinking."

"About?"

 _You._ _Us. This situation_. He caught himself before he said the words. The room was so relaxed and calm, he didn't want her to leave or for things to become awkward. "About why you stopped skating. What was the reason?"

"Life," Nevena inhaled deeply. "I just couldn't find time with work and doing a degree on the side. Something needed to be sacrificed."

"I see..." Cullen slowly nodded. "Life include your ex he asked, the question almost falling from his mouth without so much as a thought. His eyes widened, and he felt Nevena's leg go tense under his hand where he held the ice pack. Her whole body was still and Cullen did not dare to even breathe. He wanted the ability to reverse time and take back the question, but now it was there, hanging in the air like a curse. He hated himself in that moment. Hated how his brain betrayed him and his mouth gave the words air.

"Who have you been talking to?" Nevena jerked her foot back and pulled her sock back on. There was a coldness and anger to her voice Cullen had never heard before. "Why would you ask that?" She got to her feet and gingerly placed her right foot on the ground.

"Don't put your weigh-"

"Answer the question."

Cullen leaned forward on the couch. He examined her face, delicate features drawn into an expression of quietly simmering rage. He saw shame in her face too, a glimpse of fear and a hint of disappointment, as if he had broken some vow of trust.

"Arienne," Cullen huffed. "She spoke to me at the ice rink. She told me you quit because of your ex."

"She had no right to say anything!" Nevena snapped, her voice rising a little. "And you... had no right to ask her questions about me. About my personal life. Have you had little meetings with my other sisters too? Heard all the great things about Rick, and how I'm a terrible person for breaking up with him?"

"No!" Cullen got to his feet, hands out in a placating manner. "It wasn't like that. It _isn't_ like that." Nevena backed up when he stepped towards her, so he stopped moving. Her mouth was a thin line and there was colour rising in her cheeks. Was she afraid of _him_? That thought alone chilled him to the core. "Arienne approached _me_. _She_ told _me._ I may have asked for more information but-"

"Why?" demanded Nevena, lifting her chin. "Why would you ask for more information from her and not ask me, personally?"

"Because you're so cagey about it," Cullen replied, fighting to control his tone. He did not want to make this disagreement worse by losing his temper. "You barely talk about him, and when you do it's like you think doing so is going to bring him to you, or something! I was just worried about you. There was nothing malicious about it."

"It's none of your business," Nevena snarled. "My relationship with Rick is a really sore subject. And it's nothing to do with you!"

Cullen bristled angrily, "I am _trying_ to understand-"

"There's nothing to understand - at least not from Arienne or any of my other sister's for that matter!"

"Nevena-"

"If you cared, _at all_ , you wouldn't go to them for information about me. Personal information."

"I do care," Cullen replied without thinking. Perhaps if the situation was different and tempers weren't so frayed it would have had more impact on them both, but the words went unheard.

"You obviously don't," Nevena swept a hand through her hair. "I don't talk about it because it's a difficult topic for me. Arienne, Clotilde, Ineria, even my parents - they didn't want to know anything about what happened beyond what they decided when I told them I broke up with him. How dare you ask them or even pry for such personal information!"

"It just came up." Cullen turned in a circle, pushing his hands through his hair. How had the nice, quiet, relaxed atmosphere turned to this so suddenly. Anger pulsed through his veins and he grit his teeth together. "I wish you would be more forthcoming. That you would trust me. I would rather have heard it from you."

"You could have asked me," Nevena retorted. "It's my history - and I don't appreciate you going to other people to learn about me. Especially when they picked and chose what facts to believe." Her chest heaved when she paused. Cullen could see her chin trembling. "I will give you all the information in my own time. When I'm ready. Your opinion of me is only going to be worse if you go to other people."

"That's not..." Cullen trailed when he noticed Nevena turning and hobbling towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"I need some air." She stated and left, closing the door with a sharp 'click' behind her.

Cullen stared at the space she previously occupied for a few moments before growling to himself and rubbing his face in the palms of his hands. He began to pace back and forth along the floor, the pain his back now nothing compared to the grip around his chest. There was an ache there that wasn't there before, and it pulsed like a heartbeat, as if spreading venom around his body. He had experienced fights with other women before. Women he was actually _in_ relationships with and they never had this effect on him. So why now? Why did having a fight with Nevena make him wrestle with the desire to run out the door and follow her?

Had he really done something so heinous? It was just a casual conversation between himself and Arienne... He thought Nevena was perhaps blowing it out of proportion but then... as the adrenaline began to subside and rational thought returned, he wondered how he would feel if the shoe was on the other foot. If she asked his friends about his personal life, his history to learn more about him. Would he appreciate it? Would he be happy about it?

The answer was no. He would be worried about how their accounts of his past, his life, and the person he was would tarnish the way she viewed him. It was the same situation. Nevena's sisters were critical of her, and though Arienne's comments were all to Nevena's defence, she did not know that. For all Nevena knew, they might have discussed what a terrible person she was for leaving someone willing to commit to her. That wasn't the case of course, but Nevena didn't know that.

Sighing, Cullen leaned his head back and dropped his shoulders. He would apologize. Not right now... he would give her some time to cool down. Time he needed as well. Perhaps when they returned to the cabin there would be a good opportunity. Just the two of them. They could kiss and make up - without the kiss part.

The same floorboard Nevena caused to squeak by stepping on it made the same noise, alerting Cullen to someone approaching. The door opened and he stared, heart in his throat, hoping it was Nevena and he could apologize sooner. When Nevan Trevelyan stuck his head around the door, Cullen hoped the disappointment he felt was wholly obvious.

"Nevena not with you?" asked Nevan briskly. Clearly Cullen's demeanour was not obvious to him.

"No," Cullen said. "She's gone to get some air." He flopped onto the couch, exhaling deeply as he leaned his head back and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He heard the door click shut and assumed Nevan left.

"Good." Cullen's head shot up when he realised Nevan was still in the room and he was approaching to sit in an arm chair. "I want to speak to _you_."

"Why?" snapped Cullen. Being aggressive with Nevena's father was likely not the best way to talk to him, but at that moment in time Cullen did not care. He was already angry, and given their initial introduction where Nevan accused him of being there only for the money, Nevan Trevelyan's feelings were the least of Cullen's concerns.

"You don't like me," Nevan said matter-of-factly.

Cullen shrugged. "To be honest, you didn't make the best first impression."

Nevan laughed, "No. I know." He rubbed his chin. "I should apologize for that."

"But you won't."

"But I won't," Nevan nodded very slowly. "What do you do? Uh, Cullen wasn't it?"

"Rutherford. Yes," Cullen replied. He wasn't sure if Nevan was just forgetful or to be insulted that he needed to check what his name was. "I work in sports and rehabilitation therapy-"

Nevan grunted, "New age medicinal nonsense."

Cullen clenched a hand into a fist in his lap, focusing on the sensation of his nails pressing into the palm of his hand. "I work with veterans who have lost limbs or suffered debilitating injuries in the line of duty, helping them to relearn how to walk, and come to terms with what they experienced," he explained sharply. "If that strikes you as new age nonsense, then so be it. Thousands of people use the service and benefit from it. Lives improve because these often forgotten victims have somewhere to go, to talk about their trauma and move on from it. They have others they can share their stories with. Other survivors, other victims. It's fulfilling work – not that I expect you to understand that.."

"You do anything beforehand? Anything with a real skill?" Nevan asked, looking bored. Cullen bit down on his tongue – hard. He fought the urge to shout at Nevan Trevelyan that his job _did_ require skill. That his job was the most important thing in his life. He fought with every ounce of willpower and was forced to let Nevan's flippant comment slide.

"I was in the Army," Cullen said, stiffly. There was a brief shine of interest and almost respect in Nevan's face. "For ten years."

"What happened?"

"I retired."

"Why?"

"Reasons." Cullen held Nevan's gaze until the older man looked away. Cullen was not about to budge. No one in Nevena's family needed to know all his history and the reason for Nevan's interrogation was clearly more than the typical 'doting father' act.

"Ever been married?"

"No."

"Children?"

"No."

"Not even some brat from a one night stand that you pay money to every month?"

"Nice to know you have such a high opinion of someone you don't even know," Cullen bit out. He was done being nice and polite. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've never been married, never divorced, have fathered no children, and all my breakups have been relatively mess free," he sighed. "Are you finished with the third degree? Have I passed your test?"

Nevan steepled his fingers. For an instant there was tense quiet, the two men weighing the other up with silent, hard stares. Nevan brushed his thumb and forefinger over his moustache, "What are your intentions towards Nevena?"

Cullen tilted a brow, "My intentions?"

"Do you plan on marrying her?"

"I don't know?" Cullen squinted across the room at Nevan, uncertain what the angle of his question was or if he was being serious. Who _asked_ that kind of a question after their daughter had only been dating someone for six months? Cullen worried perhaps Nevan was hazing him, that somehow he had found out the relationship was a sham and this was his attempt to trip Cullen up. "For now, we're enjoying each other's company."

"Didn't sound like you were enjoying each other's company when you were arguing just a moment ago."

"That was a private conversation," hissed Cullen.

"I'll be honest with you," Nevan said, waving his hand dismissively at Cullen's remark. "I don't like you. But that's par for the course. I've never liked any of the men my daughters brought home and I'm still not fond of the men they married. The only one I liked was Richard and that was because I knew his father. I want to find out what kind of man my daughter has replaced him with."

"With... no respect meant at all," Cullen shifted, "Richard, Rick, whatever, sounds like a nasty piece of work. I'm almost certain _anyone_ would be better for her than him. Whatever you might believe of him. Or me."

Nevan narrowed his eyes. He got to his feet and Cullen heard a few of his joints pop on the way up. Despite his age, he looked fit and spry but time was definitely beginning to catch up to him. Nevan went to the window, he tucked his hands behind his back and stared out over the grounds of Haven. Cullen remained sitting. He scratched the back of his neck. Everything in his upbringing was telling him to show this man the respect he was clearly used to and expected. Cullen was being stubborn and was wrestling with his mother's voice in his mind telling him off. Nevan was showing him no respect, so why shouldn't he return the gesture.

"Nevena's very precious to me," Nevan declared after minutes of lengthy silence. "She's the only one of my daughters to ever disobey me."

"Imagine that," Cullen winced at himself. Even if he didn't like Nevan there was no reason for him to be snippy and childish.

"She's never been an easy girl. Even as a child she was troublesome and difficult. She always did what she wanted..." Nevan's voice softened. "She has a lot of her mother in her, though she doesn't realise it."

Cullen kept his mouth closed. He didn't see the resemblance between Nevena and Katrin at all, but he had not spent much time with Katrin so perhaps Nevan saw something he had yet to witness. Like warmth, affection, or even a personality.

"We have money, you know?" Nevan clicked his tongue. "What am I saying? Of course you know. Why else would you have courted her?"

"Nevena mentioned it when we got here. Shortly before you arrived, actually," Cullen said. "And I didn't know before she told me. I 'courted' your daughter because of everything she has to offer as a person – which is a lot. Her kindness, her warmth, her affection and honesty, those are _some_ of the reasons I courted her. That I _care_ for her. I make my own money, I don't need any one else's. Nor would I ask for it."

"She's the only one never to ask me for a handout," Nevan's tone had a hint of pride. "Always been determined to make it on her own. Even that silly apartment of hers. She could have had a luxury penthouse if she asked. But she wanted to pay her own way."

"Respecting the value of money is never a bad thing." Slowly Cullen turned on the sofa to face Nevan's back where he continued to stand facing out of the window. He was still trying to find Nevan's angle but for the life of him could not figure it out. Was this some over-protective parent speech? Or was this a talk he gave to all the partners of his daughters? Or was he simply trying to find some kind of common ground? "My parents instilled it in me."

"You look after her, do you?" Nevan turned to him. "Do you live together?"

"No," Cullen shook his head once. "And Nevena is strong enough to look after herself. She doesn't _need_ me to take care of her."

"Of course she does." Nevan's attitude turned, the warmth in his voice into frustration. "She's simply stubborn. That she refuses to settle down. Why she insists on working..."

"Maybe she enjoys it?" suggested Cullen, rising to his feet. "She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would be happy sitting at home and living a life of luxury. She's different and knows her own mind. That's something you should admire about her, not criticize."

"Enjoys it?" Nevan scoffed. "Long hours, noisy brats, lousy pay, no health benefits - not even dental. She should have settled down with Richard. Everything would be fine then."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Y'know, Nevena's right. If I want to learn anything about this ex of hers, I need to speak to her for the truth. You and everyone else seem to hold him on some impossible pedestal."

"You never met him, did you?"

"No, and given some of the things I've heard, I'm glad. I would have dragged Nevena out of that relationship whether you liked it or not."

"I beg your pardon?" Nevan's nostril's flared.

"Is it true you set them up?" asked Cullen, crossing his arms. "Is it true you kept insisting she go out with him? Even though she told you she didn't like him?" His temper was rising again and he could feel his muscles tensing with every word. "There was obviously something wrong! She shuts down as soon as his name is mentioned! Do you think that is normal?" He took a step towards Nevan, lifting his chin in an open challenge. "Did you even care when she dropped out of your life for three years?"

"How dare-"

"How dare I?" Cullen spat. "No, Mr. Trevelyan, how dare you. You come in here, interrogating me about my life, my work, my intentions towards Nevena. Acting the concerned parent as if you actually _care_ for her. I don't think you've ever really cared about her wellbeing, and certainly not more than your image and privilege. _I_ care for her. A great deal."

"You're not a parent!" Nevan shouted. "Do not lecture me on whether I do or do not care for my own daughter!" All that divided him and Cullen was the couch, without it, Cullen was almost certain Nevan would have thrown a punch. "I care for her more than you could possibly understand! She is-"

Cullen saw Nevan's eyes widen. A look of realisation flashed across his face and the fight vanished from his expression and body.

Curious, Cullen shifted his weight. "She is... what?"

"Nothing," Nevan growled. "None of your concern." His stance stiffened and slowly he moved across the room to the door, his shoulders squared. "Nevena is immensely important to me. I want what is best for her," Nevan added reaching for the door handle. "I do not know if you _are_ what is best for her."

Cullen snorted, "If that's your feeling towards her, then no one will ever be 'best' for her."

"Perhaps," Nevan nodded. "You may have a point, Mr. Rutherford. If so, what does that spell for you?"

As Nevan left closing the door behind him, Cullen slowly exhaled. His focus went to the sensation of air leaving his lungs and the way they emptied. It helped to relieve some of the tension from his body and he sank back down into the cushions of the couch.

He wondered how the day had turned so dramatically on its head from the enjoyment at the ice rink and the market to this. He realised his confused feelings towards Nevena were causing more trouble than he first thought. He needed to get his head together.


	10. After Dinner Tears

_December 19th, evening._

Cullen picked and prodded at the food laid out on his plate with disinterest. He wasn't particularly hungry, nor was he in the mood to be surrounded by people and voices. Since returning to Haven, the day seemed to have taken a sour turn. The argument with Nevena and subsequent talk with Nevan only cemented that for him.

Nevena sat beside him at the dinner table, shifting her food from one side of her plate to the other. She kept her head down, her whole demeanour giving off an air of disquiet. Aside from a brief cursory glance at him when he came in to the dining room, she hardly acknowledged him. He probably wasn't making it easy either. He made polite conversation with her sisters and parents when they invited him into conversation but doing so only prolonged the time they were there.

He was desperate to get away from the manor house. Once they returned to Skyhold they could clear the air. They could talk, and the guilt gnawing away at his belly would recede. At least he hoped it would. He hated this feeling. This prickling sensation all over his skin that seemed to dig deeper with each passing minute. Words and phrases of what he intended to say entered his mind and he tried to keep them in mind, but everything in his head was moving so swiftly and with such confusion, he wasn't even sure what the current conversation topic at the table was.

Ineria said something; Nevan laughed, and like well trained dogs everyone else around the table began to find the comment hilarious. Monty went so far as to put his cutlery down and put his hand to his mouth as he chuckled. Cullen managed not to roll his eyes at the sycophantic display.

"Something wrong, Nevvie?" Ineria's pursed lips made her look as though she had smelled something rotten in the way her face creased. Clearly Nevena not joining in did not please Ineria in the slightest. "Don't you like it?"

"I'm not hungry," Nevena pushed her plate away from her, fork askew.

"You've hardly touched a thing," Clotilde pointed out, "and after Ineria spent so much time cooking."

With a sigh, Nevena pulled her plate closer and ate a small helping of greens. Cullen noticed everyone at the table watching her chew. Conversation only resumed when she swallowed the mouthful forcefully. She took a long drink of water straight after. Cullen could only assume it was to prevent her from being sick.

He debated reaching for her hand on the table, or underneath it but chose not to. With the air between them still tense and uneasy, he wanted to clear it completely and he wasn't sure if she would even want him offering support. He did, however, decide to continue to keep a close eye on her during the rest of dinner.

"We're going to be decorating the Christmas tree tomorrow," Ineria announced during a small lull in conversation. "That is if Josef finds one that fits my exact specifications." She patted his arm and smiled warmly at him. Josef returned it from behind his glass.

"Cullen," Josef put his drink back on the table after taking a sip. "You look like you'd be strong enough to carry a tree. Fancy coming into Redcliffe with me and the boys tomorrow to find a tree?"

"Insinuating what, Joe?" Owen pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Insinuating nothing," Josef replied. "If you think you'd be useful in finding and carrying a decent Christmas tree you're more than welcome to tag along, Owen. And you Monty." He turned his attention back to Cullen. "But I thought I'd ask Cullen first, given he's a guest in the family this year. And I thought he might enjoy having a bit of time away from Nev."

"Oh," Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. He felt uncomfortable, all the eyes of the family were on him except Nevena's. Now he could really do with her support but knew he was unlikely to get it. "Well... uh..."

"Given the sound of that _discussion_ earlier, sounds like you two could do with a bit of space," Clotilde said primly. Nevena's cutlery clattered onto her plate and Cullen saw her eyes widen. "After only six months. Doesn't bode well for the long term."

"Tilly-"

"Shut up," Nevena snapped, glaring across at her sister. "You have no idea what that was about, so just shut up."

"That's uncalled for, Nevena," Katrin dabbed the corners of mouth with a napkin. "Don't tell your sister to shut up, she was making an observation."

"But she-"

"Nevena," Katrin shot her a look from the far end of the table. The fight in Nevena's body fled in an instant and she slumped down in her chair. "And _stop_ slouching. Do I have to get the posture bar out? Ineria has one for Matilda, do you need to be treated like a twelve-year-old?"

"Matilda's posture has become so much better since last year." Ineria said.

Nevena shifted in her seat. Her back straightened, she pushed her shoulders down and sat ridged. "No. That won't be necessary," she replied stiffly and without looking at her mother.

"Good."

Cullen kept his gaze on Nevena a few moments longer and noticed her secretively wipe a hand underneath one eye. He toyed with the idea of reaching for her hand again, just a tiny squeeze to remind her he was there and on her side, even if they had argued. He didn't. He was already worried things were becoming too comfortable and familiar between them, that the lines between the fake and real relationship were becoming mixed and difficult to differentiate between. Holding her hand unbidden would do nothing to bring clarity to the situation.

"What about it, Cullen?" Josef prompted him to return to the earlier conversation about the Christmas tree.

"Hm? Oh, sure," Cullen said without much conviction. "Sounds like fun."

"Grand!" Josef grinned. "The boys can be a bit crazy, so it'll be nice to have another pair of eyes to watch them with me."

"What about Matilda?" asked Cullen, looking between Josef and Ineria. "She's not coming?"

The atmosphere around the table grew uncomfortable for a moment and it gave Cullen the distinct impression he said something offensive or made a comment not one was supposed to. After taking a sip of water and delicately patting the corners of her mouth, Ineria perched her elbows on the edge of the table and laced her fingers together.

"I'm trying to drum out some of Matilda's… _quirks_ shall we say. She's too old to go looking for Christmas trees now," Ineria explained. Her smile caused a cold sensation to sweep across Cullen's whole body. Maybe it was just him, but there appeared to be an element of threat to her expression, as if challenging him to pursue the topic. He was curious exactly what drumming out someone's 'quirks' entailed. His parents always embraced the oddities and personalities of himself and his siblings. Every hobby, no matter how odd, was embraced and nurtured. Even if the interest was short lived his parents never told any of them they couldn't or shouldn't do something unless the activity or interest was particularly life threatening.

"Fair enough." He chose to play the good guest and simply nodded once.

"She'll be here though," Ineria relaxed. "So will Nevena."

"I will?" Nevena looked tired and bored.

"Of course," clucked Ineria. "You'll have to help her with the Christmas biscuits. I can't help, I have to go into Edgehall with mum, and it's much too dangerous for Cleo and Arienne to spend time in a hot kitchen, given that they're pregnant. Too much heat is bad for baby."

"Right," Nevena snorted.

"Unless there's something else terribly urgent that requires your attention." Clotilde added sharing a glance with Ineria. Cullen was beginning to see the truth to the explanation Nevena gave days before about how her sisters worked. Ineria was the ring leader, and Clotilde followed her example, hanging on her every word. Arienne was an impartial party, yet to speak or choose a side.

Nevena huffed, "Sure, I'll be here. Doesn't sound like I have a choice in the matter."

Cullen saw Ineria begin to reply, but a soft knock on the dining room door and it squeaking open caught her off guard and she said nothing. All attention turned to the door and the messy head of black hair peeping around it. Dante was clinging to a raggedy elephant toy in one arm, the other above him probably clasping the door handle. He looked sleepy and inched into the room.

"Dante?" Ineria didn't move and sounded more annoyed than concerned. "What are you doing up?"

"Umm..." Dante's wriggled uncomfortably. His eyes went to Josef who rose from his seat and scooped Dante up in his arms. Immediately the child nestled into his father's shoulder.

"Bad dream?" asked Josef. Dante nodded. "Want me to come and check your room?" Another nod. "Do you want your nightlight?" A third nod. Josef glanced back with Ineria, as if to check the night light was approved by her.

"Fine," Ineria almost growled. "But only for tonight. You're too old for a night light, Dante."

"Come on, little man." Josef rubbed his son's back. "Excuse me." He closed the dining room door behind him and Cullen could hear him still talking softly to Dante as he went through to the foyer and the stairs.

"Sorry about that interruption," Ineria laughed nervously. "We've been trying to wean him off the bloody night light for months, but he's a stubborn little thing."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about," Nevan piped up for the first time in a while. "You all had night lights when you were young."

"Yes, daddy, but we all grew out of them by the time we were Dante's age." Ineria smiled sweetly.

"Not all of us." Clotilde remarked looking pointedly along the table at Nevena. Cullen glanced between the pair of them. Nevena was positively glowering. "How old were you when you finally stopped needing a nightlight, Nene?"

Nevena released a heavy sigh. "You're _really_ doing this?" She cocked a brow at Clotilde who simply smiled in return. "Fine. I was thirteen." Ineria and Clotilde both began to laugh. " _But_ the only reason I needed a light in the first place was because you three told me there were monsters living under the bed when I was little, and then proceeded to hide under there one night and pinch my fingers and toes until I went screaming for our nanny."

"I remember that!" Clotilde giggled. "It was hilarious. You screamed and squealed like a pig!"

"It's your own fault," Ineria added, smirking. "You shouldn't have been so gullible."

"I. Was. _Four,_ " Nevena spat. Cullen saw her hands in her lap curl into fists. "You were all older than me and were _always_ pulling crap like that."

"Language," Katrin snapped. "And don't raise your voice, Nevena."

"We were just playing harmless pranks." Ineria shook her head and smoothed her hands through her hair. "Holding a grudge is a really ugly personality trait, Nevvie."

"Harmless?" Nevena's gaze snapped to Ineria. She was almost quivering and Cullen would swear to being able to feel her anger flowing off her. "How was shoving me in the deep end of the pool when I was seven and then preventing me from climbing out by blocking the ladders, harmless?"

"You were fine," shrugged Clotilde. "Stop being so dramatic. We let you out."

"Because our nanny made you. I'd had _three_ swimming lessons. You kept using your feet to shove me under the water and keep me down." Nevena's face was growing gradually more flushed while she fought to keep her voice steady. "I never went swimming again after that."

"How is that our fault?" Rolling her eyes, Ineria picked up her glass and took a drink. "You were the one who gave up learning because of a joke."

"How is trying to drown me a _joke_?!"

"You're still here," Clotilde said lightly. "Obviously we didn't intend to drown you."

Nevena breathed heavily. Cullen heard each inhale and exhale, every shudder as she struggled to retain control and not let her emotions get the better of her. Her hands were on the table, fingers clenching around the table cloth her knuckles as white as it was.

"Stop making a scene. Your sisters were just doing what sisters do," Katrin remarked. "My sisters played pranks on me. It's foolish of you to take it so personally."

"Of course you take their side." Nevena waved a hand at Clotilde and Ineria. "You _always_ take their side." Katrin said nothing though Cullen noticed her eyes narrowed. He glanced around the table at the others there. Nevan, Owen, and Monty were all staring down at their plates, as if trying to avoid the confrontation and pretending it wasn't happening. Arienne was the only one openly observing and looked torn between the two sides. If what Nevena said was true, then Arienne was as much a part of the torment as Clotilde and Ineria were yet she was not joining in with them. Cullen wondered why, and why it was she looked so conflicted, maybe it was the conselling she had mentioned. Whatever she had learned telling her not to interfer.

"You always get so over-emotional, Nevvie." Ineria got to her feet and began to gather up the plates in front of her. "For the love of the Maker, we were just having a laugh. Stop taking everything to heart. You act as though we tormented you all day, every day."

"Because you _did_. How can I not take our history to heart when I was the one who was _always_ your target?" Nevena almost jumped to her feet and sent her chair clattering to the floor. She planted her hands on the table, palms down. Cullen could see her eyes welling up and somehow he knew if she began crying openly this whole thing would get ten times worse. "You have gone out of your way to make my life horrendous since I was a baby. You would break my toys when I was little, rip my clothes. Oh - remember the time when Clotilde got that terrible bowl cut and because she was jealous my hair was long you came and held me down while she cut it all off with a knife?!" Nevena was biting out each word, her voice low, angry and growing hoarse.

Clotilde tittered into her glass, "That was great."

That comment was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Rather than continue her clearly futile attempts to get her sisters to apologize for their past behaviours, Nevena simply turned and stalked out of the dining room. She slammed the door behind her and a few moments later, the front door slammed too.

There was silence for a few seconds. Monty and Owen were still staring at their plates. Ineria sighed and continued to clear her the table. "Honestly, she's always _so_ over dramatic."

"See what we've had to grow up with?" Clotilde remarked, jerking her glass in Cullen's direction. "She's a nightmare."

"Does she make a scene when she doesn't get her way with you?" Ineria asked conversationally, smiling at Cullen. He stared at her, hard. Any harder and he was certain she would burst into flames.

"That was really mean, you guys." Arienne spoke up, her voice mousy. "Nevvie's right. We were pretty terrible to her when she was young. And you guys were never like that to me."

Clotilde snorted. "You've changed your tune. You enjoyed teasing her as much as we did. Besides, she was a brat. She need to be knocked down a peg or two."

"Was she a brat though?" Arienne frowned. "I don't think she was. What happened wasn't her fault, any of it."

"What wasn't her fault?" asked Cullen. The three of them turned their gazes to him as if only then realising he was still in the room. There was a beat or two of silence. "What wasn't Nevena's fault?" Cullen raised his voice a little.

"Nothing." Arienne shook her head.

"Right." Cullen got to his feet, sighing.

"Where are you going?" Ineria demanded.

"After her?" He moved towards the door. "She's got a bad ankle, and it's snowing outside."

"You can't leave, Cullen." Ineria protested, laughing airily as though she did not believe him. "Nevena's being silly, she always is. She just wants attention. She'll come back when her tactic doesn't work. Besides, there's still dessert to come!"

Cullen stared at her, trying to fathom if she was being serious or not about staying for dessert after the confrontation he just witnessed. Ineria stared back at him with open eyes and a broad smile, not a hair out of place following the heated words. She waited, expectantly for him to retake his seat. Cullen shook his head. Nevena was outside in the cold and she was probably walking aimlessly in anger. He wasn't about to make merry with her family after what he just witnessed. He felt bad enough for being a silent observer. Even if she didn't want him there, he would at least make sure she got back to the cabin safely.

"Sorry," he said gruffly. He placed his hand on Nevan's shoulders. "Dessert kind of pales in comparison to someone so _precious to me_." He felt Nevan tense under his grip at the repetition of the phrase Nevan used to describe Nevena to him earlier. Cullen squeezed his shoulders hard before retreating out of the dining room.

He grabbed his jacket off the coat hooks by the door. Nevena's was still there under his, as was her scarf and hat. Not only was she outside in the cold, she was outside in the cold not wearing much that would help keep the cold out. And, though Cullen was no expert on temperatures, he knew it was at least below freezing outside.

He grabbed all her things and went out the front door.

* * *

Nevena instantly regretted leaving the warmth of the manor in such a hurry and in so much anger. It was snowing, not heavily, but enough to settle on the ground and with it came a chill wind which bit through her jeans and jumper. In her haste she forgot her jacket, but would not return to the house for it now. Doing so would be like admitting she was in the wrong, a spurned hound with her tail between her legs. She wasn't wrong for getting angry. She could have tried to retain her calm though, and she was ashamed at the fact Cullen was witness to such a public display of her losing her cool.

Nevena rubbed her face. Her skin was still burning from her frustration and damp with the angry tears she shed on leaving the house. She kept rubbing her cheeks, not wanting the tears to freeze to her skin or her eyelashes.

Her sisters brought out the worst in her, especially when they ganged up like that. To Nevena it was like they all reverted back to when they lived at home. Ineria leading the charge, Clotilde following close behind, and Arienne sitting on the edge of the disagreement, ready to take a side when it would benefit her.

She imagined the three of them were all congratulating each other for getting her under skin, just like they did when Nevena was young. Katrin would say nothing, she had never punished them for their pranks in the past, why should she start now? And Nevan would keep quiet as always. Nevena's father was far more adept at handling business and yes men, than his own daughters.

Pausing in her walking, Nevena wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed in the hopes of generating some heat. She held her right foot off the ground feeling the pain of her ankle throbbing in her boots. Ever step made it ache more and more and she knew she was probably making a minor sprain into a major one. At this point she didn't care. She would hop to the cabin if necessary. She just wanted to get away from the house.

She could see the house behind her, the lights in the dining room and one of the reception rooms. There were lights along the road that curved around from the house and went to the different cabins, but they were faint and looked miles away. The grounds of the manor house never seemed this extensive in the daylight. Nevena wondered if she was at risk of animals out here at night. She knew deer sometimes crossed the grounds to graze, but what about predators? Supposedly there were wolves and mountain lions in the Frostbacks, and this was ideal weather for them to hide.

Maybe it would have been safer for her to swallow her pride and go back to the house. Perhaps her sisters were the lesser of two evils. Be attacked by wild animals, or eaten alive - metaphorically - by her sisters. Neither was particularly appealing.

 _"Nevena!"_ She whipped round hearing her name carry through the air. Her ankle throbbed in protest when she put her weight back on it to stay steady. She recognised Cullen's figure doggedly trudging through the snow. He was shielding his face from the wind and Nevena wondered how far she would get if she ran on a busted ankle in the snow.

She reasoned not far. And if she was being totally honest with herself, she was tired of running. She decided to wait for him to get closer and walked a few steps towards him to close the gap. Still keeping her arms crossed over her chest and rubbing her arms, she stopped about five feet from Cullen. Over his arm was slung her jacket, scarf, and hat.

"What are you doing out here?" Nevena asked, breaking the tension as the two of them stared at each other wordlessly for a few moments. "Why aren't you up at the house, enjoying the riveting company of my family?" She hoped he couldn't hear her voice crack.

"I was worried about you," Cullen said. He approached and held out her jacket. "Put this on, before you freeze to death."

"I'm fine."

"Please?"

Nevena pulled her jacket on and wound her scarf around her neck. She stuffed her hat on her head and immediately began to feel a little warmer, even as flakes of snow melted into the jumper she was wearing under her coat. "Thank you..." she mumbled.

"You're welcome." Cullen eased his hands into his pockets. "You all right?" He moved closer to her. "That was... quite an impressive display."

"Yeah. I'm fine." Nevena hoped she sounded convincing.

Cullen arched a brow. He rubbed his chin and that hand slipped further along his face to rub the back of his neck. "Really?" He sighed. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes..." Nevena felt her resolve crumbling even as she tried to persuade him and herself of her lie. "No." Her voice cracked. She ran her hands through her hair, pushing her hat off in the process and wringing it in her hands. She turned on the spot, arching her head back and willing herself to fight back the painful prickle behind her eyes. "I don't know," she said finally, looking at him. Her chest grew tight and she struggled to suck in a breath. The tears she was fighting started to fall. "I don't know what I'm doing here! I don't know why I agreed to this stupid gathering! I knew this would happen eventually - it always does!" She threw her hat to the ground and fisted her hair in both hands, pulling out of frustration. "I hoped they might have changed, or matured in three years. But they're still the same!"

"Hey," Cullen reached towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders to get her to stand still. A moment later and he was cupping her face, wiping her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Shh… it's okay…" He spoke in a soothing, calm voice. A voice Nevena knew was to try and help her calm down and focus. "Breathe… Just breathe…"

She did, breathing in as deeply as she was able.

"Your sisters?" Cullen prompted.

"They're nothing but bullies, and they won't even admit it!" She sniffled, and rubbed her nose on her hand. "I don't know why I'm putting myself through this!" Her chest heaved with short breaths, every one feeling like fire as it filled her lungs before being swiftly expelled. "I should have just stayed away."

"They really did all those things to you?" asked Cullen softly.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Nevena wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands, catching the tears clinging to her face. "Of course you don't. Why would you?"

"I didn't say that." Cullen shifted, closing the space dividing them until he was barely a foot away. "I _do_ believe you. Every word." He lowered his hands and gently grasped her shoulders.

Nevena scoffed. "You're one of the few." Sighing, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. Under her coat she could feel her body quivering, the cold and wind biting through her clothing. As the adrenaline of the previous argument wore off, it was suddenly like she was more sensitive to the cold. "What am I doing here?" she asked, not expecting a reply. "I'm putting myself through my own personal hell, and for what? To appease a family who don't even seem to like me?"

"I can't answer that."

"I know you can't." Nevena dropped her chin to her chest. She was close enough that her forehead leaned against Cullen's sternum. Squeezing her eyes closed she sniffed and wiped the droplets of tears that were clinging to the end of her nose. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"That's okay." Cullen's voice had a softness that was audible even over the wind. "I'm sorry I didn't step in to say something."

"Not your fight," Nevena replied. "Besides, even if you had, they would have started tearing into you. And I don't want that." She shook her head a little. "You're already putting up with a lot, just being here." A small chuckle tumbled out of her mouth. "Though I admit, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to quit right now."

"I'm not going anywhere." Cullen's hands moved along Nevena's shoulders to her neck and he encircled her face, guiding her to tilt her head back so they could look at one another. "In all seriousness, I think you being here and putting up with your family shows a lot of strength."

"Or stupidity."

"Why do you always put yourself down like that?"

Nevena shrugged, "Habit."

"Huh." She saw his mouth turn downward at one corner. "You family clearly don't expect you to stand up for yourself."

"I never used to. When I was younger, there was no point. Everyone always believed them over me. I was the youngest, after all. And the black sheep of the family." Nevena forced a brief smile. "After Rick, I decided I didn't want to be such a pushover any more. Backfired royally tonight."

"Siblings know how to push the right buttons."

"Ineria doesn't so much as push buttons. It's more she exposes the weak fleshy bits of you and prods them with a red hot poker."

"Interesting and graphic description," Cullen laughed. Nevena liked his laugh. His smile too. This close she could see more of it. How the scar on his lip wrinkled with the curve of his mouth. She realised his lips were fuller than she first thought too. His laughter died, and a sobering look clouded his face. "Listen, if you want to go back to Denerim, if this is all too much, all you need to do is say. I'll drive us back tonight, if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Just say the word."

Nevena bit her lips into her mouth. The offer was a tempting one. Going back to Denerim would mean she would not have to deal with her family any longer. She would be able to put the last few days behind her and perhaps accept she would never be one of them and she would begin to move forward. Leaving also meant she was running away. Whatever the reason, Ineria would take it as some kind of victory. Once again, Nevena was running away from confrontation and her problems, when the truth was she was running away to spare her sanity. But returning to Denerim also meant this arrangement with Cullen would come to a premature end, and foolish as it was, she didn't want it to.

She liked him. He intrigued her and it had been a long time since she felt anything close to the way she did when he was around. She enjoyed the tingles that rippled over her skin and the giddy flutter in her chest when he smiled at her. Even now, beyond her own thoughts, all she could focus on was the warmth of his hands cupping her face and the smell of him. And he smelled _good_. A deep, earthy scent of oakmoss with a lighter fragrance layered over it. They two scents complimented one another perfectly.

Even if the whole thing was fake. Even if when they did return to Denerim and the contract expired they went their separate ways, never to meet again, Nevena wanted to be selfish for the moment. To enjoy these early blushes of affection and flirtation that were missing from her life for so long.

"Thank you for the offer," Nevena said after a long silence. "And I may keep it in mind... But I don't want to go home. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of sending me scurrying away like a coward."

Cullen nodded once. "That's fair. You may be many things, but I don't think you could ever be called a coward."

Nevena felt warmth spread up her neck. Cullen eyes seemed to drop and linger on her mouth and she found herself willing him to kiss her, mentally begging him to close the space and just _kiss_ _her_ until she couldn't breathe any more. She wanted him to kiss her until she forget her name, where she was, and why she was crying. She wanted him to kiss her until _he_ was the reason her chest ached. Until _he_ was the reason her mind was clouded and confused. A second grew to two, then three. Nevena's heart beat hammered in her chest and she struggled not to move or wobble on her one foot. She bit her bottom lip, Cullen's eyes widened and it was like his senses suddenly returned to him after a brief absence. He cleared his throat and removed his hands from her face. One went to the back of his neck, the other to his pocket.

"Back to the cabin?" he asked, his voice a little tighter than before.

"Mhm-hm." Nevena nodded. She hid the disappointment behind a small smile and fell into step with Cullen as he led the way back towards the main house and the car park. When he noticed she was limping, he tucked an arm around her waist to support her. He drove them from the house to the cabin and Nevena was relieved to be back in the warmth when she walked into Skyhold. She shed her jacket, scarf, and hat, draping them over one of the chairs at the small table. Cullen closed the door behind him and stripped out of his jacket too.

"Are you still going to do the biscuits tomorrow? With Matilda?" Cullen asked her, sidling past her to get to the couch.

"Probably." Nevena leaned her hands on the back of the chair. "Ineria won't be there, and I haven't spent much time with Matilda since I got here."

"Makes sense." He sank down onto the couch and began to remove his boots.

Nevena lingered by the chair. She drummed her fingers against the fabric of her coat, debating with herself whether to go to bed, or whether to speak again. She was calmer now. Being away from the house helped clear her mind, and she now realised how foolish she was earlier when she accused Cullen of going to her sisters for information. She not only wanted to apologize, but needed to. The thought of doing so worried her though. Things were more relaxed between herself and Cullen now - bringing up the argument might make things uncomfortable again.

"Something on your mind?" asked Cullen. Nevena realised she was staring into the middle distance. He was now on his feet and in his jeans and a t-shirt, his thick jumper still half dangling down one arm. For the first time, Nevena realised just how well built he was, wide across the shoulders, toned arms and a hint of muscle the fabric of his t-shirt clung to.

Cheeks flushing, she swallowed and tried to centre her thoughts. "I wanted..." She stopped, closed her eyes and sighed. "About before." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Earlier. Before dinner. Uhm... I'm sorry," she tucked her hair behind one ear when she peered up at him. "I shouldn't have accused you of going to my sisters for information on me. It wasn't fair, and I was refusing to listen."

"No apology necessary." He tossed his jumper on the back of the couch. "I shouldn't have spoken to your sister about you or about your personal life. I'm sorry for doing so, for causing you distress and if you felt betrayed in any way it wasn't meant maliciously."

"I know it wasn't." Nevena crossed to the couch and perched on the arm of it. "It's just... well, you've witnessed how my sisters are. You can understand why I might get a little paranoid about what things they might say."

"Yeah, I get that."

"And," Nevena clasped her hands together and squeezed them between her thighs. "I don't want you to think I'm a more horrible person than I already am."

Cullen frowned. "I don't think you're a horrible person." Nevena tried to school the shock she felt and searched his face for any deception. He _looked_ honest, brows furrowed, mouth pulled into a thin line, eyes open and maintaining her gaze. "Do you think you're a horrible person?"

"You psycho-analyzing me now?" She tilted her head back, laughing in the hopes it might deter him and change the subject. The severity of his expression softened a little, but he didn't laugh. Nevena gave a strained chuckle and sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I've done my fair share of shitty things."

"Who hasn't?"

"And..." She ran her teeth over her bottom lip. Everything about Rick was bubbling up inside her, wanting to escape. It was overwhelming and she was afraid she might vomit if she began to speak. Instead she retreated from the truth. "It's not worth going into this late." She slid off the arm of the couch. "Another night, maybe?"

"Sure."

Nevena began to limp towards the bedroom, her body suddenly feeling heavier and her mind crying out for sleep.

"Nevena?" She stopped at her name and turned to face Cullen who had crossed the main living area until he was standing within arm's reach. "Uh... there was..." A hand went to the back of his neck again, "something else."

"Oh?" Nevena watched him, almost certain his cheeks were a darker shade than they were a few moments ago.

"You... during the argument earlier, I got the distinct impression you thought I didn't care about you." His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed thickly. He looked almost everywhere except at her while he gathered his thoughts. It was an endearing sight his being bashful put her more at ease. "Well, even though this - you and I - is an arrangement... you should know that's not true. I do care. About you. And..." He paused and huffed, "I felt like you should know that. Though that didn't come out the way I wanted."

"That's okay." Nevena stepped towards him, reached forward and gently squeezed his left hand. "Thank you." She smiled at him. "I care about you, too."

Her touch lingered a few seconds more, the two of them simply sharing a look and the moment before she released him and moved away. After bidding Cullen goodnight, she disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She leaned her whole body against it, pushing her head back and closing her eyes. Letting out a long breath as she slid down to the floor, she began to try and quell the wild fluttering in her chest.


	11. Nieces, Trees, and Histories

_December 20th_

"How many is that now?" Nevena waited for Matilda to add the last of the raw cookies to the baking tray.

"Twenty four on this tray. And we've got another twenty four ready for icing and twelve of the extra large ones finished." Matilda stepped away from the oven. Nevena gathered up the tray, opened the oven and slotted it inside. She adjusted the timer, setting it for twelve minutes as she got to her feet. "How many more do you think we'll need?" asked Matilda.

"Probably a thousand," laughed Nevena. She leaned her weight against the counter top and looked around the kitchen. Piled up in the huge double sink were all the mixing and measuring bowls they used to make the dough. On a central island counter were biscuits ready to be decorated, and bags of icing in red, white, black, and green. The extra large cookies were finished and put safely aside so the decorations and icing could dry.

"How many do you think we can make with what we have?" Matilda shuffled over to the island counter and hopped up into one of the high seats.

"Well, we have forty-eight already." Nevena raking her fingers gently through Matilda's hair and tied it back for her. "With the two batches dough we still have in the fridge... I would guess another forty eight normal sized ones, or twenty four big ones." After washing her hands, she joined her niece at the counter to sit beside her. "But you'd already worked that out."

Matilda smiled shyly and ducked her head. "Maybe," she shrugged. "I was just testing you."

"My math skills _are_ pretty atrocious," Nevena remarked. After watching Matilda poke her tongue out in concentration as she iced, Nevena took one of the biscuits shaped like holly, picked up the green icing bag and began to make an outline. "How is school, anyway? You didn't mention it in your last email. Everything okay?"

"Sure." Matilda didn't look up from her task. "Everything is fine."

Nevena arched a brow but did not press the matter. Matilda was in that awkward stage of no longer being a child, but not quite a teenager. They emailed back and forth on a fairly regular basis despite Nevena's temporary estrangement. According to Matilda, she had gotten Nevena's email from Josef who kept it on hand. Ineria didn't know. Nevena liked it that way.

They iced their biscuits quietly. Nevena kept glancing at Matilda, admiring her determination to make her biscuits look as perfect and pristine as possible. By comparison, hers were like a three-year-old colouring outside the lines. But they would taste good. That was what mattered.

Matilda sighed wearily. The kind of sigh that was more suitable for an old man than a twelve-year-old, "Mum made me go in for the school play."

"She said in her Christmas card." Nevena kept her focus on the icing, not wanting Matilda to feel intimidated. "She said you got the lead."

"Only because she complained when I was initially cast as part of the chorus. She complained to the school and they gave me the lead, and the girl who got it originally was given my part... I didn't even want to audition."

"Why not?"

"I don't like being on stage." Matilda put her icing bag down and used a cocktail stick to smooth out the icing on her snowman. "I like doing stuff behind the scenes. Originally I wanted to do something like stage manager, or lighting... But when I told mum I was thinking about helping out with the school play, she just got so excited... She never gets excited about things I enjoy. So I..."

"Felt obligated?"

"Maybe, a little."

"And, let me guess," Nevena smiled, wryly. "She told you how she always used to get the leads in all the school productions?"

"Yep." Matilda grabbed another biscuit to begin decorating. "She still has all these old programs, and photo albums. She was so enthusiastic... I didn't want to disappoint her and tell her I only meant to help backstage."

Nevena put her sprig of holly to one side and grabbed a cookie shaped like a reindeer. "Why do you think you'd disappoint her?"

"I don't know," shrugged Matilda. "She never gets excited about anything else I do."

"What do you mean?" Nevena placed the icing bag on the counter and turned to face Matilda fully, giving her undivided attention. Matilda's gaze was focused down onto her new biscuit and she had her tongue out to one side as she iced. "Matilda?"

"Well... I was part of the Mathlete team this year, and we placed first in our age range. And I was part of the debate team. When I told mum... I don't know, she didn't seem to care." Matilda picked up the cookie and examined it. "I messed up." She showed it to Nevena. There was a small smear of white icing seeping into red.

"It's not that bad." Nevena hopped off her chair, grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and carefully started to remove the still wet icing. She gave the biscuit back to Matilda when she was done. "The new icing will cover the old colouration. No one will know."

Matilda smiled briefly, "Did I tell you I won an award at school?"

"No." Nevena checked on the biscuits in the oven still cooking to make sure they weren't burning. She returned to the island counter. "What was the award for?"

"Maths."

"Of course," Nevena grinned. "I expected nothing less. I meant what, specifically, was the award for?"

"Just for math. Mathematical excellence, I think the Principle said," Matilda giggled. "I got a little silver cup and they're going to engrave my name on it. And it's been suggested I take an advanced class in the spring semester. My teachers say I'm not being challenged enough."

"That's so great!" Nevena gave her a one armed hug, not wanting to squeeze too tight and disturb Matilda's hands while she was concentrating. "You tell your parents?"

"Yeah," Matilda's voice fell. "Dad was really excited."

Nevena pursed her lips. "What did your mum say?"

Again, Matilda fell silent and channelled all her focus into the task before her of decorating. Nevena resumed icing the cookies too, sitting quietly keeping an ear out for the timer. She noticed that Matilda held her breath whenever she was icing an outline or a particularly intricate detail and that her tongue was almost always out signifying her concentration.

"Did you ever feel like Nana and Grandpa didn't like you? Or... regretted having you?" asked Matilda in a small voice. She held her freshly iced Father Christmas in front of her between her fingertips. Nevena puffed her cheeks out before she said anything, the few seconds that took giving her a moment to think. That was a deep and troubling question for a twelve-year-old– to _feel,_ and to feel she _needed_ to ask.

"Your mum loves you," Nevena said. She took the biscuit from Matilda's fingers and put it on the counter before grasping her hands. "She might have a funny way of showing it, but she loves you, Matilda. I promise. She would never regret having you." She brushed some of Matilda's hair out of her face.

"She just doesn't seem interested in me. At all." Matilda stared down at her feet dangling above the floor. "She always has something to say about the things I do, like my achievements aren't good enough for her. But she's always praising Dante and Rowan for doing the most basic things, like keeping their rooms tidy."

"Listen," Nevena lowered her voice and chose her words as she spoke them. "Your mum is a lot of things, I grew up with her so I should know. But I know for a fact that she loves you, and I think she just has a lot of trouble expressing herself. She doesn't understand math or science... or the things you're interested in."

"You don't either. But you're nicer than she is."

"I'm your aunt, sweetie." Nevena smiled. "And I know what it's like to feel like a fish out of water."

"I can't talk to her." Matilda murmured. "We just get into a fight and then I have to go to my room because I answer back, or something."

"I got that same treatment from your Nana and Grandpa."

"I just want her to be interested in the things _I'm_ interested in."

"Of course," Nevena nodded, "that's totally normal and natural."

Matilda bit her lip for a moment, still staring at the floor. "Do you think you could talk to her?" she asked in a softly. "Dad's already tried and they got into a fight. And I can't ask Aunt Ari or Aunt Tilly, cause they'll just take mum's side, or tell me I'm being silly... Or that I'll grow out of the math stuff when I get older - but I don't _want_ to grow out of it. I like it! I'm good at it! And-"

"It's okay." Nevena's grip changed to Matilda's arms as the young girl began to breathe more quickly. She rubbed her upper arms. "It's okay, Matilda. Calm down, it's okay." She continued to stroke Matilda's arm while her mind wrestled with what was just put to her.

Ineria was the last person Nevena wanted to spend any one-on-one time with right now, but getting her alone was likely the only way she would be able to talk to her about Matilda. If it was an adult asking her to speak to Ineria on their behalf, Nevena would have refused outright. But it was Matilda, and she recognised the place where Matilda's upset was coming from. She also recognized the first signs of a rift developing between mother and daughter which could prove irreparable if Ineria didn't begin to change her point of view and embrace Matilda as she was, rather that attempting to live vicariously through her.

"I'll talk to her for you," Nevena said. She cupped Matilda's face in her hands and wiped away big tears that spilled from her eyes when Matilda lifted her head. "Okay? I'll speak to her."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Nevena smiled. "I can't promise she'll take on board what I have to say, but I _will_ speak to her."

Matilda smiled through her tears, sniffled and after composing herself returned to decorating the biscuits. The timer on the oven bleeped and Nevena hopped off her chair. As she took the biscuits from the oven she felt the gnawing dread at the back of her mind that talking to Ineria might do more harm than good.

* * *

Cullen watched with quiet amusement as Rowan bolted through the maze of fir trees on display with Dante following doggedly behind, struggling to keep up with his older brother. Josef had them in sight at all times, keep up to their pace but giving them some distance so they could play.

Spending some time away from Nevena and her sisters was a good idea. Cullen's head felt clearer now than it had for days, and he found the more time he spent with Josef the more he liked him. He was a decent man who loved his family. He worked hard and Cullen found him upfront and honest - the complete antithesis to Ineria.

The drive to Redcliffe took just over an hour and it was a picturesque city. The Frostbacks faded into the distance, giving away to natural red coloured hills and out-croppings. The snow had not settled so thickly in Redcliffe - just enough so everything was covered in a light layer of white. The branches of the fir trees spattered snow on the ground whenever they were disturbed, but it wasn't icy or particularly cold. The city reminded Cullen of a smaller Denerim. Not as built up and bustling, it moved at its own pace, but it was well populated. There was a larger variety of people and businesses than in Edgehall too.

Before now, Cullen never realised how competitive the Christmas tree business was. Josef drove the four of them to a retail park where half the car park was cordoned off and assigned for Christmas tree vendors. Each vendor had their own section and they each vied for the business of every single person in the vicinity. There were a few small stalls too, one for handmade baubles that could have names or pictures etched into them, another for delicate wooden Christmas figures, and another two or three selling stockings, stocking fillers, and other random odds and ends.

Since arriving at the retail park they had visited at least eight different tree vendors. Dante and Rowan examined the trees with discerning eyes, declaring when one did not meet their exacting criteria that it was 'too green' or 'not green enough'. Cullen recalled one was too small by their standards, but when Cullen looked at it he knew it would be up to the ceiling in his own apartment. Some of the trees had 'too many branches', some 'had prickly needles', and others 'didn't smell right'. Cullen wondered how Josef kept his composure, but Josef listened and nodded, and accepted his sons' comments openly, always suggesting they move on to another vendor and look there.

"Don't run too far, boys!" Cullen heard Josef's voice and caught up to him. "Sorry to drag you around like this, Cullen. Didn't think the boys would be so... selective."

Cullen smiled, "That's alright." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "They know what they're after, can't fault them for that."

"True." Josef folded his arms and leaned back a little. He was older than Cullen by at least ten years or more and it showed through the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Cullen was taller, only by a few inches, but Josef was definitely broader than he was. It wasn't often Cullen felt even mildly intimidated, but Josef was one man who he would potentially be intimidated by if he was ever angry. Luckily, Josef seemed extremely mellow and not one to be angered easily. "No, Dante - don't try and climb it." Despite his scolding Josef was grinning.

"Honestly, it's nice to get out of the house," Cullen said. "Things with Nevena were a little... fraught, yesterday. We talked it out, but a bit of space never hurts."

"Ah, yeah." Josef rubbed his chin uncomfortably. "Monty and Owen filled me when I came downstairs after Dante fell asleep. I thought I heard raised voices..." He paused and huffed. "I'm sorry about Ineria. She can be... destructive."

"No need to apologize," Cullen replied very slowly. He liked Josef, but he _was_ Ineria's husband and following the confrontation the day before, Cullen now decided to keep his guard up and tread carefully should she or Nevena come up in conversation. "Siblings fight. My older sister and I used to bicker all the time."

Josef chuckled quietly, "But what happened last night wasn't bickering." His chuckle drew into a deep sigh. "Ever since I've known her, Ineria has always had it in for Nevena." He started walking, following Rowan and Dante through another cluster of trees. Cullen fell into step beside him. "I don't know why. Nevena's never been anything but kind to me, and she loves the kids, too."

"They've never been close?" asked Cullen.

"Not really. There's a twelve year gap between them for starters and..." He caught himself, looked at Cullen, looked at the ground, and then the sky. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this. It's a bit sensitive to the family."

"You don't have to," Cullen told him, meaning it. He didn't want to know any information pertaining to Nevena that she did not tell him herself.

"It might help you understand last night..." Josef ran a hand back through his salt-and-pepper hair, making it more of a mess than it already was. Cullen said nothing. He waited to see if Josef would divulge what was clearly weighing on his mind. He was not going to push, even if he was tempted to learn more. He did not want another fight with Nevena and if he did not ask, then she could not assume he was digging for information. It would be information freely given... Though Cullen doubted Nevena would see it that way, if it came up. "Did you know Nevan and Katrin had a son?"

"No." Cullen turned his gaze on Josef who was watching his own boys chase each other through the trees, the difficult decision of picking one forgotten for the moment. "Well, I mean. Nevena's has mentioned it in passing. But never gone into detail."

"That's not surprising." Josef slipped one hand into his pocket, the other he rubbed over the short beard on his chin. "He died when he was four. I don't think Nevena was even born yet."

"He died?" repeated Cullen, controlling the surprise in his voice. Suddenly he was acutely aware of other people around him, that they might over hear a very private and sensitive topic of conversation. He was also aware of how personal the information was, and was not sure he wanted to know about it.

"It was an accident. From what Ineria has told me, she, Clotilde, Arienne and their brother, Nevan Junior were visiting a park with the nanny. Ineria turned around to talk to Clotilde and a friend who they met there. They were meant to be watching Nevan and Arienne, while the nanny was getting ice cream, or something." Josef shifted uncomfortably. Cullen could see him imagining one of his own sons in the situation he was recounting. A scenario Josef was apparently struggling with. "One minute Nevan was playing a game with some other kids and Arienne. The next... Ineria says she remembers the screech of tires and then nothing until the ambulance arrived. Nevan had run into the road to grab his ball. The driver did everything she could to avoid him but…."." Josef cleared his throat.

"Was she on the phone or something? Speeding?" asked Cullen.

"No," Josef sighed and rubbed his chin, "no. Nothing like that. There was a police investigation. She did everything she could to avoid him. Did nothing wrong. She was cleared of all charges. The car company, however," He folded his arms. "There was a fault or something with the brakes. According to Ineria the company was aware of this issue, but up to that point any incidents had been minor. No fatalities. After Nevan was killed... well, there was a massive legal battle after that."

Cullen stood with him in awkward silence, hands in his pockets not quite sure what to say. Of course it was a terrible tragedy. That any family should have to bury a child was undoubtedly horrific and something Cullen hoped he would never experience if he had children. He was still confused, though as to how Nevan Junior's death caused Ineria to behave the way she did towards Nevena. After a lengthy minute or two of silence, Cullen shifted his weight. In doing so he nudged Josef who smiled weakly.

"Sorry." Josef rubbed his face and ran his hands back through his hair. "For for drifting off there, I was telling you something serious wasn't I?"

"That's okay. I can imagine it's... easy to imagine Dante or Rowan in that kind of position." Cullen glanced at the two boys when he mentioned them. "You take your eyes away for a split second."

"Yeah." Josef clicked his tongue. "Yeah... And Ineria can be harsh on them, but she does love them. Fiercely."

"I believe you," Cullen replied, nodding a few times. "But, I don't understand why Ineria is the way she is to Nevena? If she wasn't even born then... how can Ineria justify her animosity towards her? She had nothing to do with the accident."

"No," Josef agreed. He tilted his head one side then the other as if working out a knot or a kink. "I think a lot of it stems from Ineria blaming herself for being distracted. Nevena was born about a year after Nevan died. I think Ineria saw Nevena as a poor replacement for the brother she and her sister's doted on. There was only about a year or so between his death and Nevena's birth, I think..." He sighed. "Instead of dealing with her grief, she decided to place the blame on Nevena instead, the poor replacement. And I think she's felt like that for so long, she's convinced herself, Clotilde and Arienne, to a certain extent, that it's the truth."

"That... Nevena is to blame for Nevan's death?" Cullen squinted. "But... how does that make sense if she wasn't even born?"

Josef inhaled. "It doesn't. But-"

"Do they blame her for _not_ being Nevan Junior, then?" pressed Cullen, annoyance beginning to lance through his tone.

"Dad!" Dante rounded one of the trees cutting Josef off midsentence. He grabbed his father's hand from his pocket and started to pull. "We found the best tree!"

"Okay, okay," Josef laughed, "show me." He scooped Dante up and followed his directions.

Cullen followed a few steps behind, quietly frustrated at Dante for interrupting but, again, finding himself uncertain as to whether he wanted to know more. He was starting to understand Ineria's aggression towards Nevena now, though it was misplaced grief and Nevena did not deserve it, _at all_ , he could understand Ineria's frame of mind. Blame and grief could do incredible things and warp a mind... Ineria being unable to face her grief, she'd turned her anger on the person she considered a replacement for her brother.

Still, that did not help Cullen in deciding if he wanted to know more, or not. He was curious, but such a sensitive topic was not best discussed in public, or in the presence of children. Part of him wondered if Nevena knew more that she was letting on about her brother, but that hardly made sense if he died before she was born. He didn't imagine her family were forth coming about such a delicate and tragic aspect of their history. And from all the photographs in the manor house, Cullen could not recall seeing a photo of any young boys besides Dante and Rowan.

He would take his lead from Josef, he decided. If Josef wanted to continue what he was saying then Cullen would allow him to, and listen. If not, then he would not press the matter and he would not mention it again, unless asked. Under no uncertain terms would he discuss it with Nevena. That was a can of worms he did not want to open.

The tree Rowan and Dante picked out was a sturdy, tall one. It stuck out to them because the branches were 'the perfect length' and it was 'not too green, but green enough'. Those reasons appeased Josef and he sent Rowan off to find the vendor and ask to have the tree carefully packed in twine so they could get it onto the car and go home. Rowan dashed away to fulfil his task, while Dante continued to look at other trees, apparently in his own little world.

"You know, I don't know if anyone else has told you this, but you and Nevena make a nice couple." Josef rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms, smiling. Cullen returned the smile. Clearly Josef had no intention of carrying on their previous conversation. Cullen did not blame him in the least. "She seems really happy with you."

"Except for yesterday afternoon," Cullen smirked wryly.

"All couples have their fights," shrugged Josef. "You and Nevena are still getting to know each other, really."

"You're not wrong there..." Cullen gave a strained laugh. If Josef only knew how right he was! "Thanks, though. Appreciate the sentiment."

Josef offered a little nod of his head. "It's funny, she's always looking at you when you're not looking at her. And vice versa." He chuckled a little.

Cullen felt a warmth blossom on his face and coughed awkwardly. "Hah," he barked. "Really?" He did _not_ look at Nevena. Not when she wasn't looking. Except maybe during dinner. And during the ice skating. And even if he did, it was a _friendly_ look.

"I don't think I've ever seen her look at someone the way she looks at you," Josef added, his smile growing in warmth. Cullen managed not to choke on his own breath. "You're a good fit for her."

Ruffling his hands through his hair, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and inhaled deeply, hoping that it might relieve the warmth in his face and the tightness in his chest. The prospect of Nevena looking at him in any way, beyond friendly, was a bad, _bad_ thought. Because then he might suspect her of having confused feelings sparking inside her. The same confused feelings that were already ignited inside him. Feelings he wanted to extinguish before things between them became weird, and too complex to see night from day. Puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled, Cullen shoved both hands in his pockets.

"Thanks." His smile felt more like a wince when he looked at Josef. "I'm glad at least someone in the family approves of me."

"Nevan, right?" Josef clucked. "Yeah. He's... not an easy man to win over." There was a tinge of exasperation in his voice. Josef clearly spoke from experience. "Anyway - if you and Nevena have no plans while you're staying you should bring her to Redcliffe."

"Oh?" Cullen arched a brow. "Why's that?"

"There's a pre-Andrastian church here. Nevena used to be into theology and architecture. If that's still something she enjoys, she'd probably like to visit," Josef grinned. "And I'm sure you'd have fun too. Nothing nicer than seeing the face of someone you care about light up when they doing or looking at something they're interested in, right?"

Cullen laughed awkwardly. "You're not wrong there..." He grimaced, turning to the sound of Rowan's voice as it drew closer.

"Maybe mention Redcliffe to her." Josef patted Cullen on the shoulder just as the vendor appeared through the trees with a proud Rowan a few steps ahead. Cullen sank back against the other Christmas trees while Josef spoke to the vendor. He was starting to wish he had not agreed to come to Redcliffe, because now he was trying to figure out how to ask Nevena if she wanted to visit, without it becoming more than just a friendly outing between friends.

Because that was what they were. Friends.

 _Just friends._

* * *

After arriving back at Haven, Cullen helped Josef, Rowan and Dante bring their selected tree into the house. Owen and Monty assisted in setting it up in an ornate metal stand in one corner of the family living room- while Clotilde and Arienne offered helpful, conflicting instructions. Matilda arrived, following the noise, and she carried with her a tray of beautifully iced biscuits. Not wanting to add more fuel to an already confusing fire of rising voices and barking orders, Cullen slipped out of the living room and ventured down towards the kitchens. Having not seen Nevena upstairs, he could only assume that was where she still was.

It would be an opportunity for him to mention Redcliffe. It was a good idea, and one he appreciate Josef suggesting to him, and the journey back from Redcliffe gave Cullen ample time to come up with a friendly and non-committal way for him to approach them visiting. A way that added no pressure or expectations. It was just a city he visited and thought she might like to take a day trip to while they had a few days of nothing planned.

Cullen wanted to kick himself. He was rarely such a bundle of wound up, confused nerves. He wasn't immensely confident either, but he was never like this. Not with previous girlfriends, and not with friends. He could be confident with clients because it was all an act. He knew that, and the client knew that. Being confident was part of that act. With his feelings towards Nevena so muddied and tangled up, it was hard to know which camp she fit in. She wasn't a girlfriend, but the feelings all jumbled up in his brain made 'friend' not quite sit right. And to call her a 'client' sounded too impersonal now.

He hoped a casual visit to Redcliffe where they could simply hang out might help put things into place and remove any confusion they both felt. It would be the two of them, hanging out, as friends. And doing so would, ideally, remove any conflicting emotions. Emotions Nevena may or may not have been experiencing. Cullen didn't know for certain.

His palms were sweaty when he opened the kitchen door, so he wiped them on his jeans. The kitchen smelled of cookies and ginger, and reminded him of his sister's house whenever she spent the day baking. On a central island counter were used icing bags, and smears of green, red, white, and black icing on the surface. Nevena stood at the double basin, her back to the door, and her loose down her back. To her right were stacks of dirty utensils and bowls, and to her left were clean items on a draining board. A little further away was another tray of finished biscuits like the one Cullen saw Matilda carrying.

"Need any help?" Cullen saw Nevena physically jump to the sound of his voice and something clattered into the water. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no." Nevena peered over her shoulder. Cullen approached and grabbed a dish towel to start with drying the items already draining. "I was in my own little world." She smiled at him when he picked up a bowl. "How was Christmas tree shopping?"

"It was a success," Cullen told her. "After a long, _long_ search, Dante and Rowan were able to find one that they both agreed was the most Christmassy of Christmas trees."

Nevena laughed though her nose, "I'm sorry. I guess they can be a bit much."

"It's fine. I enjoyed myself," Cullen smiled at her. "They're good kids. And Josef's a really good guy. I like him a lot."

"Yeah, Joe is great. I've always liked him. Maker knows how Ineria married someone so nice." Nevena slipped a spoon onto the draining rack. "Did you like Redcliffe? I haven't been there in years."

"It's a pretty place. Kind of like a quiet Denerim." Cullen put a dry measuring bowl with the other two he already dried and picked up a sieve next. For some reason his stomach churned at the prospect of asking Nevena to visit the city with him again. It was only a question. A question he had yet to ask. And a question she had yet to answer. She could say 'no' for all he knew. And he would never know, unless he asked.

Maker's breath, he was not very good at this when it came down to it. He much preferred _acting_ the part.

"Apparently there's quite a historical site in Redcliffe," Nevena beat him to it. She stared at her hands in the sink, thoroughly washing a spoon that was already spotless. "A pre-Andrastian church. One of the last in Ferelden."

"Would you like you go?" Cullen blurted out. He hid his grimace behind an expression he hoped was thoughtful while he continued to dry. He could feel her looking at him and words were stuffing themselves onto his tongue, fighting to get free. "That is, uh," he added hurriedly when Nevena didn't speak, "if you're interested. W-we have nothing planned."

"Yes! Absolutely! I'd love to!" Nevena said. She wore a warm, sincere smile when Cullen glanced at her face. Painfully sincere, almost as if someone asking her to do something she might enjoy was a foreign concept to her. Cullen's chest tightened. "I-I mean... It… I would like that. It'd be fun." A blush rose to her cheeks and her focus went back to the washing up.

Once Cullen was caught up with the drying, they fell into an easy rhythm. The soiled bowls and utensils were quickly depleted and could be put away. Cullen returned the different items to their cupboards and drawers, while Nevena washed down the sink with a clean cloth and warm water. While placing a mixing bowl in one of the top cupboards, Cullen's nose was suddenly filled with the strong smell of cookies, shortbread and gingerbread. He realised the cupboard was directly over the last batch of biscuits due to be taken upstairs.

"These look really good." Cullen picked one up. "Smell great, too."

"Don't you dare eat that." Nevena reached for it, Cullen held it out of her grasp, just above his head. "They're not for eating yet!" She stretched, her task of cleaning off the sink forgotten for now. Even on tiptoe she couldn't reach.

"It's one biscuit," Cullen protested. A few crumbs flaked off on his fingers. "I just saw Matilda carrying up a massive tray. No one will miss _one_."

"I'll miss it." Nevena narrowed her eyes.

"No one else needs to know," teased Cullen, tapping the end of her nose with his finger. "It can be a secret."

Her eyes narrowed even further. "I'll know," said Nevena, eyes flitting between the biscuit in his fingers, his face, and... Cullen swore her eyes dropped to his mouth and remained there for a second or two longer than the other places she looked. "Put it back." Cullen lowered his arm a little, his focus no longer solely on his sweet tooth.

Tapping her nose again, Cullen slowly moved his finger lower, brushing down over the tip of her nose, along the curve of her Cupid's bow and following the attractive, full swell of her bottom lip. He heard Nevena's breath catch, his own becoming a little shorter to take. Cullen shifted, and Nevena mirrored him, moving what might have only been an inch closer. Her teeth grazed the end of his thumb when she moved, and he would have sworn to feeling the tip of her tongue brush his skin, too. He felt a pleasurable shiver rush down his spine and the hair of the back of his neck stand. A rational, and sensible part of Cullen's mind was telling him to stop. He was already confused and if he followed the instincts pulsing through him it would only make things worse. But that rational voice was dulled and silenced by the thudding of Cullen's heart at the back of his throat.

"Uhm..." Cullen snapped from his haze at the sound of Nevena's voice. She swept a lock of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were now a dark red, the colour only growing deeper by the moment. "You, uhm... You still haven't put the cookie back," Nevena explained. She bit her bottom lip and her eyelids fluttered slightly. Her pupils were wide when she looked at him, eyes gleaming. She lowered her eyelids almost erotically and in that moment Cullen couldn't recall seeing anything as enticing.

He wasn't sure who moved first.

One moment they were standing in a tense silence, one of his hands elevated, a biscuit between his thumb and forefinger. The next moment, the biscuit clattered onto the tray with the others and the only thing in Cullen's mind was Nevena. Lips meeting in a hard, devastating kiss. Teeth clacking clumsily as all sense and reason fled from them both. His mind was swimming and he was utterly immersed in her within moments. Her hands were still damp from cleaning up - he felt water on his skin from her one hand curving around his jaw. The other was in his hair, fingers curled up in his locks, all but pulling by the root. Cullen cradled the back of her skull in one hand, the other slipped along her waist, two fingers inching underneath her jumper to the bare skin beneath.

With a firm guiding hand, he closed the space remaining between them and pushed Nevena back against the counter. She gasped at the impact of the edge of the surface in her back, but Cullen swallowed the sound. Nevena's hand at his jaw was suddenly wrapped around his neck and across his shoulders, bringing him closer, her fingers in his hair knotted tighter. Her kisses were hungry, verging on desperate, like someone denied water for days suddenly allowed to quench their thirst. She was greedy, soft moans spilling from her mouth into his. There was a white heat behind each brush of her lips that felt like a bolt of lightning down Cullen's spine. The rawness made it more exciting.

Cullen met each kiss with reckless enthusiasm the sensible side of his mind now gone and likely never to be heard from again. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth when she sucked in a gulp of air, a playful gesture and one that had her lips crashing into his again. He pressed his tongue between her lips, angling her head back to deepen their connection. Her fingers clenched into the fabric of his shirt and she teetered on her toes. Cullen encircled her waist with both arms, hand slipping under her clothing, his fingers spread over the expanse of soft, warm skin he found, eager to explore and map it. To commit it to memory. He raked his nails across the small of her back and was rewarded with a low, primal groan and Nevena's hips jerking against his. His hips stuttered in reply. Another deep sound came from her throat, too faint for him to discern whether it was his name or not. He liked the sound, however, and dragged his fingers over her skin once more, pressing his hips into hers, in the hopes that she might make the noise for him again.

He got his wish.

His name spilled from Nevena's lips, her voice less a moan, and more a begging mewl. There was no space between them any longer; he could feel every subtle move of her lithe, lean body against his. The delicious friction created by her writhing and the layers of clothing between them did not help matters, sending a steady heat lacing through his veins, causing his cock to harden.

Dragging his lips from hers, he left a trail of kisses across her cheek moving to her ear. He released a long breath, blowing air over her skin and watching through half-hooded eyes tendrils of golden blonde hair flutter away. When he shifted, she copied him, parting her legs without any hinting or coaxing. Cullen smiled against her cheek. He closed his teeth around the lobe of her ear, biting down and suckling, his pleasure only increasing when he heard her inhale and gulp down an audible breath. Again, he dragged his fingers over her skin, down the full length of her back this time, scratching with his nails and pulling at the strap of her bra until it pinged back into place. She arched into him beautifully, shuddering in his hands, a moan staggering from between her lips. He pressed his body to hers, grinding against the juncture between her thighs and earning a staggered moan in reply.

" _Hmmph- Cullen—"_ Nevena whimpered, her voice quivering, low, and brimming over with desire. Her fingers clutched tighter to his clothing, stationary in their position, and vice-like in their grip, but attempting to pull him closer. Any movement she made seemed to be utterly automatic, and it was as though instinct was calling the shots. That, for now, her over thinking mind had stopped and was allowing her _this_. Just as his had stopped. Cullen's mind was silent, his wants and selfish desires instead were in command.

Following the same path from her ear to her mouth, Cullen claimed her lips again, grinning into the kiss and the sound of pleased surprise he swallowed. Her tongue met his as he pushed her past her lips. A tentative gesture and shy – undoubtedly Nevena – but erotic in its timidity. Grinding his hips forward, Cullen was unable to stop the low laugh that rumbled within him when he heard Nevena's shocked yelp. His erection was not subtle, pressing hard and heavy against the confining denim of his jeans.

They drew apart long enough for Cullen to get a good look at the flush to her face, and for him to hear the quickness of her breath. He felt the short puffs against his lips as she chased the air he had stolen from her, and that she had stolen from him. His grabbing, gripping hands turned more gentle, now stroking over the bare skin of her back and her waist. When she opened her eyes, he saw they were bright and blazing, like embers of a fire. Dark and inviting, as intoxicating to look at as they were the first day he saw her in Red Jenny's.

"Nevena," Cullen murmured. He inclined his head to kiss her again, lifting one hand to cup her jaw as she returned it. Her mouth moved with his and Cullen noticed how her arms tightened around his neck and shoulders. Her heart was racing in her chest, he knew because he could feel the vibrations matching the pace of his own. Somewhere in the very recesses of his mind he knew this was wrong. This was so far out of the contract they agreed on, and they were in _very_ dangerous territory – but he didn't care. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to have her. To have _this_. To stop fighting what he was feeling and allow himself to go with it. If only she would too. He pulled away from the kiss, lips hovering on hers, eyes tightly closed while Cullen tried to focus and find his words. _"I wan—"_

"Hey, Aunt Nev, where's the other- OHMAKERI'MSOSORRY!"

Matilda's voice caused Nevena to jerk away and the whole room came into cold, unfeeling focus. She blinked up at Cullen as though waking from a nightmare and hurriedly put a safe distance between the two of them, extracting herself from between him and the counter to all but sprinting across to Matilda. For an instant, Cullen was too dazed and conflicted to realise what happened. He was _enjoying_ the kiss. So was Nevena, from what he could tell. Why would she stop? It was only when he realised Nevena was apologising to Matilda over and over that it all clicked.

And suddenly he was mortified. Not only had he been kissing – though that seemed too tame and innocent a word to use for what they were doing – but he had been considering the idea of allowing things to move further. He had been entertaining the thought of going back to Skyhold, of stripping her of her clothes, and _having_ her until they were too tired to think. His cock pulsed, still excited. Cullen ran his hands down his face and through his hair.

 _Fuck_.

"Matilda. That-" He crossed to where Nevena was already talking to Matilda. He forced himself not to look at Nevena's face, though he could see the bright scarlet of her cheeks. "Uh, that was... I am so sorry."

Matilda was laughing, tears streaking down her cheeks. "That's okay. I mean - no need to apologise!" Her voice was a little shrill. "Just adults being gross _._ "

"Don't tell your mum," Nevena grasped Matilda's hands. "I will never hear the end of it."

Still giggling, Matilda nodded, "I won't tell." She looked between Cullen and Nevena. "But uhm... I need the..." She pointed at the cookie tray.

"I got it!" Nevena charged past Cullen without so much as a glance.

 _Fuck_.

"I'll take it upstairs with you." She returned with the tray and ushered Matilda out of the kitchen. "Can't keep everyone waiting!"

Before Cullen had a moment to protest - it was probably best if he and Nevena talk immediately after... after whatever that was - the kitchen door closed firmly and Cullen could hear Nevena nervously chattering for a few seconds. He stared at the door before rubbing his fingers over his face and mouth. His skin was red hot and his heart was going a mile a minute. Every inch of him was tingling and Cullen himself felt energized. He stared at the kitchen sink, approached it and placed his hands on the edge, leaning his weight down. He closed his eyes tight, taking long, steadying breaths.

He touched his lips, sure he could feel them fizzling and tingling. He could still feel her mouth on his. Her sharp, stolen breaths, the sound of her voice when she gasped and moan when their hips ground together. She was there, her taste lingering on his tongue, her fingers pulling at the roots of his hair, drawing him closer.

 _Fuck._

One moment they were teasing each other, the next... The next they were kissing like their lives depended on it. Cullen inhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair wondering the only logical question: what the fuck had he done?

* * *

Nevena managed to avoid speaking to Cullen until the late afternoon when everyone gathered in the living room to hep decorate the tree. Rowan, Dante, and Matilda picked out decorations to hang and told those tall enough where to put them. Liam waddled around, occasionally picking up a glass bauble only to have it quickly taken from his small hands by Owen.

She spent the hours between her and Cullen's kiss and now carefully checking every room before she went into it, and fleeing whenever she heard his voice. It was foolish behaviour, considering they were meant to be pretending to be in a relationship, but the kiss... confused her. Confused things. There was no one to perform for at the time, and it happened so suddenly and without warning that Nevena wasn't sure what the meaning behind it was. If it was just a spur of the moment gesture brought on by... some unseen force or if there was more behind it.

That was a terrifying thought. What if there was more behind it? Then what?

She partly hoped that wasn't the case. That it was a slip up and an accident. She also partly hoped there was meaning behind it. She liked Cullen, that was for certain, but she wasn't sure if she was sincerely attracted to him, or if it was just part of the illusion creating confusion for them both.

Moments like this she wanted Roselyn to talk to - but being at the house, she didn't want to risk someone over hearing the conversation or Cullen walking in while she was on the phone. She decided to hold off calling Roselyn until later when they were back at the cabin. And she would not call if she and Cullen could figure things out themselves in the meantime.

When she saw Cullen in the living room, Nevena immediately stared at the floor and her whole body flushed hot. It was a long time since she had been kissed the way he kissed her... A _very_ long time, and the kiss was enjoyable - of that there was no doubt - but it was also badly timed and puzzling. The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became by the whole thing. A kiss was a kiss, and sometimes kisses didn't mean anything, they just happened. Judging by how casually Cullen spoke with Josef, he was not experiencing the same confusion or malcontent she was. However given how adept he was at faking an entire relationship so far, she wouldn't put it past him to be hiding his confusion either.

Over a few minutes, Cullen managed to catch her eye and he nodded his head at the door. He slipped away after excusing himself from conversation with Josef and Monty. No one was paying attention to Nevena. She sat behind everyone else in the arm chair, mostly unnoticed. She followed after Cullen a minute or two later.

Her chest was tight when she found Cullen waiting for her in the hallway, and every breath grew shorter as she followed him to the dining room where he closed the door firmly. She placed her hands on the back of a chair, watching him, and aware of the space between them, determined for it to remain. The air in the room was thick and stifling. Nevena pushed her fingers through her hair, waiting, not sure if she should speak first or let Cullen have his say. Time dragged. She knew they would be missed if they were gone from the living room for too long.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

She could see his back was tense. He had yet to turn around and face her. She felt nervous, and not an excited nervous. It was more an apprehensive nervous. Silence like this made her uncomfortable. In times past, she never knew if a silence was a prelude to an argument or to a conversation that would leave her feeling about two inches tall and ridden with guilt. She pressed her fingers into the chair back, trying to think of something to say and unable to remember words, let alone how to form a complete sentence.

Opening her mouth, she hoped a sound might magically come out on its own.

"About earlier." Cullen's voice aired instead of hers. Nevena shut her mouth so fast her teeth clacked. He turned to face her, but did not move from where he was standing. "About the... I mean..." He scratched the back of his neck. "The… the uhm…"

"Kiss?" prompted Nevena, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"Right. That." Cullen gave a short bark of laughter that sounded insincere to Nevena. "I don't know why it happened. I can only apologise, and swear it won't happen again."

Nevena didn't want to admit that she felt her stomach plummet like a rock in a pond. "It's okay." She hid her disappointment behind a smile, something she was well practised in. "The last few days have been kind of... emotional. I guess everyone's on tenterhooks a little bit and people do weird things when they're emotionally strung out."

"Yeah," Cullen chuckled weakly. "It's... It's just," he paced one way, then the other, coming to stop in his original position. "I don't think I was prepared, entirely, for this whole arrangement. In the past these things have been for an evening or a day at most."

"Right," Nevena nodded. Her heartbeat was suddenly very loud and painful. If he was about to bring a premature end to their arrangement, then she wouldn't blame him. She just wasn't sure how she would handle it, or explain it to her family. "That's understandable." She hoped she sounded calm.

"I like you… a-as a… as a friend," Cullen stated. "And I think settling into this arrangement, being around each other so much, has been messing with our heads a bit."

"Quite possibly," Nevena agreed. "Going from not knowing each other to practically living together, albeit temporarily, is bound to have some… Weird… It's going to… We… That is, you and… There were… Repercussions. Variables. We didn't consider those."

"Exactly." Nodding, Cullen ran his hand over his chin, scratching at his stubble. "So... I think, that kiss was... We just needed to get it out of our systems." Nevena narrowed her eyes at him slightly, waiting for clarification. "Now it's done, a-and we know there's nothing there. N-nothing here. Be… between us, I mean. We can carry on and things will be fine." He laughed again, uncertainty weakening it. Nevena wasn't certain if he was being serious or not, it was hard to tell. The disappointment she felt before now pooled like molten lead in her belly, weighing her down. If he felt nothing from that kiss, then there was nothing to be pursued or considered. And he was probably right, what she was feeling for him was likely brought on by nothing more than circumstance and vicinity.

"That... sounds good to me," Nevena said, slowly. She relaxed her grip on the chair. "We can be friends, and keep displays of affection for show. Like we planned. Best not to get emotions mixed up in all this too. It's complicated enough."

"Absolutely," Cullen forced a small grin. "I'm glad we agree."

"I'm glad we could talk about it. Like adults." Nevena gave a strained laugh that petered out into silence. She and Cullen watched each other awkwardly across the room until she dropped her gaze and puffed her cheeks out. "We should get back."

"Yeah." He opened the door. "Did you still want to go to Redcliffe tomorrow?"

Nevena paused over the threshold. "Not tomorrow. I'm going into Edgehall with Ineria. She needs to pick something up she couldn't find today. And I ordered something at the market that's ready for collection."

"Oh." They walked in tandem and silence down the hallway towards the living room. There were raised, jovial voices coming from within. Nevena didn't much feel like being around such a lively atmosphere right this minute, but leaving was out of the question. "Are you sure going to Edgehall with Ineria is a good idea? Given the other night?"

"I promised Matilda I'd talk to Ineria for her," explained Nevena. "She's feeling a little... unloved, I guess. I can relate to that. She doesn't think Clotilde or Arienne would talk to Ineria, and Josef's already tried. I'm the backup plan."

"Okay..." Cullen's mouth shifted to one side. "If you're sure."

"I'll be fine," Nevena assured him. "It'll give us some time apart too."

"True." He grasped the door handle. "After you."

Nevena took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of her chest expanding with her inhale. She plastered a well practiced smile on her face and re-entered the living room, feeling more weighed down than she did when she left.


	12. The Weight of Words

_December 21st_

* * *

Cullen reclined on to couch, mug of coffee in hand. His laptop was open in front of him on the coffee table, the light of the webcam shining a steady green. Though there was no one on the opposite camera visible, Cullen could hear two lowered voices off screen.

 _"It's your publisher,"_ one said, female with a distinctive accent.

 _"Tell her I'm not here,"_ the second voice, male and impatient. _"Better yet, tell her I died."_

 _"Varric!"_ the female voice growled _. "You can't avoid her forever."_

 _"Yes, I can,"_ Varric retorted. Cullen smirked to himself hearing the exchange _. "Just... tell her I'll call her back. Please, Cassandra?"_

Cassandra sighed heavily off screen. _"Fine,"_ she snapped. _"But next time, I'm just going to hand you the phone and not tell you who it is."_

 _"Sounds great."_ Varric was sometimes frustratingly cheerful and glib. Given how short Cassandra's temper could be, Cullen wondered just how their relationship worked so well and how the two of them didn't drive each other crazy. As it was, they'd been together almost eighteen months and showed no signs of boring each other or of any cracks in their relationship. Cullen was glad of it. They worked well, and they cared about each other. Though they would both declare the contrary if confronted with it.

Varric's face appeared on screen and he sat back in his seat. "Sorry about that Curly."

"Avoiding your responsibilities again, Varric?" Cullen smirked.

"For as long as I can," Varric replied with a wry smile.

He was older than Cullen but by how much Cullen wasn't certain, he had never asked - but age had not dulled the sharpness of Varric's mind or tongue. A was a writer by trade, on the best sellers list, and one of the few friends Cullen was still in contact with from Kirkwall, while he was stationed there Varric was almost always around during the week. He had been on friendly terms with a large number of Cullen's squad and for the first few years, Cullen's reception to Varric was icy, cool at best. Somehow, through events that involved drinking and Cullen had tried to blank from his memory, Varric became Cullen's closest friend for a long time.

It was through Varric he met Cassandra. The two of them were instrumental in the relief effort for Kirkwall following the explosion, and they both helped Cullen get back on his feet after his discharge and the events that followed. He was indebted to them. He considered them as close as his own family, despite the distance.

"You really need to get an assistant," remarked Cullen. "Or at least pay Cassandra to avoid your publisher for you."

"I pay her with love and sneak previews," Varric said, his grin increasing. "What more does she want?"

Rolling his eyes, Cullen laughed into his mug. He took a swallow of coffee, placed the mug on the table and leaned forward. "You're terrible."

"I know, I know," sighed Varric. "A burden I must bear." He looked momentarily remorseful, before a wicked smile lit up his face. "Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about this girl."

"There's nothing to tell," Cullen shrugged. "She's a client. A friend."

"Oh, come on Curly." Varric shook his head. "You're calling in a favour to get her a copy of her favourite book. She's got to be more than a client or a friend."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why does she need to be more than a client or a friend? Can't I just do something nice for someone who I think deserves it?" asked Cullen, his voice becoming a little sharper and his defences rising. He was only just beginning to figure out how to put some distance between himself and Nevena so his tumultuous feelings towards her could calm down. He did not need Varric riling him or those feelings up by baiting him.

"I'm not judging, Curly," Varric lifted his hands in defence. "Sorry if I touched a nerve."

Cullen breathed through his nose, trying to relax. "It's fine."

"Is she there?"

"If she was, do you think we'd be having the conversation?"

"I guess not." Varric nodded. "Well, the book is on its way to you as we speak. I sent it off today, airmail. Should be delivered right to the cabin door tomorrow afternoon, sometime."

"Thank you, Varric," Cullen half smiled. "She'll really love it. I owe you."

Varric waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, we're square." He paused for a moment. Cullen watched him purse his lips and fiddle with a gold earring hanging off his right ear. "Not going to tell me anything about her, huh? This girl whose favourite book is the first one I wrote?"

"Why so curious?"

"Not a lot of my readers even remember _'The Viper's Nest'_. It's kind of nostalgic to know someone out there still likes it," explained Varric with a slow, lingering smile. "She like the other ones?"

"Actually... I don't think so." Cullen frowned, thinking back to that early morning conversation where he found her reading at the kitchen table. "She didn't say she disliked them, I just think she liked _'The Viper's Nest'_ more."

"Oh," Varric's brow furrowed. "Did she say why?"

Cullen shrugged, "No."

"Maybe I should ask her."

"I haven't told her I know you. I didn't want her to get over excited, or something like that. I know how much you value your privacy."

"Oh please," scoffed Varric. "I'm an open book - no pun intended. And it would be nice to hear the opinion of a genuine fan of my early work."

"You hate being critiqued."

"I hate being critiqued by _critics_ ," Varric said. "If an actual fan were to give me their feedback in a decent way, not in one-hundred-and-forty-characters of abuse on twitter, then I'd be more than happy to listen." He snorted. "I might even take on some of what she says."

Cullen laughed, "Maybe when the oceans freeze over."

Varric moved on screen, turning his attention to another monitor Cullen knew he used to keep up pages of notes and research when he was writing. There was the sound of fingers on the keyboard and few mouse clicks.

"What's her name again?"

Lifting a brow, Cullen leaned back. "Why?"

"I want to check I spelled it right inside the book." Varric shot him a look. "Why do you think?"

"Sure, Varric." Cullen gave an exasperated bark of laughter but spelled out Nevena's name for him regardless. Varric went quiet for a minute or two. In that time, Cullen checked his emails and started to type a reply to his sister, who was berating him about not being available to come to her house for Christmas. The past few years, he had spent the day with his siblings and their families. Since their parents died, the four of them were closer than they ever were as children. Cullen felt a pang of guilt for the fact he would not be there. He had already apologized, but another would not go amiss, and he promised Mia he would come stay for a weekend in January to make it up to her.

"She's cute," Varric remarked. His comment caused Cullen to look up from his email. "Pretty."

Cullen squinted at the webcam and therefore, Varric, "You've googled her, haven't you? Are you stalking her on Facebook or something?"

"No, nothing like that." Again, Varric waved a dismissive hand. "Just wanted to know what she looked like. I didn't realise she was one of _those_ Trevelyan's."

"Neither did I," Cullen groaned. He ran a hand across his face, rolling his thumb and forefinger along his brow. "I'd never heard of them until she told me."

"They're not exactly celebrities," Varric explained. A few clicks of a mouse and his attention returned fully to Cullen. "I met Nevan and Katrin at a charity event about a year ago. Weird people. Very, uh..." Cullen waited; it was rare for Varric to be at a loss for words. "Very intense."

"That's one way to put it," Cullen laughed heartily and ran his hands back through his hair. "Honestly, Varric these people... Her family are..." He leaned his head back, shaking it while staring at the ceiling. "It's astounding that she's related to them. She's nothing like them. And given some of things she endured... I'm amazed she's as kind as she is."

"Oh?"

"Right now, she's out in Edgehall with her older sister," Cullen sat up. "An older sister who has tormented her for years and who, in no uncertain terms, despises her. And she's with her because she wants to do right by her niece who, according to Nevena, 'is feeling unloved'."

"Sounds like she's a nice person."

"She's is. She's more than nice." After rubbing his chin and stubble, Cullen grabbed his coffee and drained the last few mouthfuls. "These people, Varric. You should meet them. I would love for you and Cassandra to meet them and see how horrific they are."

"All of them?" asked Varric.

"No, not all of them... The kids seem great, and one or two of the husbands are nice. I'm still on the bench about one sister. But the parents - fuck, the parents." With a sigh, Cullen placed his mug on the table. He was on a roll, letting go of all the comments he was keeping tightly contained. "Her mother is something out of a horror story, I swear. She threatened Nevana with a pole to straighten her posture at dinner, like she's five-year-old! Who _does_ that to their adult daughter?"

"Someone with expectations," Varric snorted. "My parents had the same of me." That had a poor relationship with his parents was common knowledge to most of his close friends. It was a topic Varric often used to make off-handed comments or to deflect. Through their long friendship, Cullen had never heard Varric discuss his parents seriously. Perhaps he did in private, with Cassandra, but for the most part Varric's past was something he kept very close to his chest.

"The two older sisters, as they were digging their claws in, no one told them to back off. In fact, it was like everyone else was pretending it wasn't happening."

"You didn't though, right?" asked Varric. "You jumped in Mister knight-in-shining armour?"

"Sadly not... I was just in shock. I didn't know _what_ to say, and when I thought of something I decided against it, in case it made matters worse." Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly, she's a great girl. Given everything she's dealt with and things I suspect she's experienced... That she is a warm hearted and kind person is a testament to how strong and resilient she actually is." He sighed, flopping back onto the sofa. "She just doesn't believe it herself. She _actually_ thinks she's a terrible person."

"Uh huh..." Varric's tone drawled out and there was a distinct smugness to his voice. Cullen arched a brow at the laptop screen. "Tell me again how she's just a friend and a client? Certainly _sounds_ like that's the extent of your relationship and your feelings towards her."

"Shut it," retorted Cullen, rolling his eyes. "We're friends. Adding anything else to this... It would make things more complicated."

"'More complicated'? Meaning... you've thought about acting on you-"

"Varric."

"Sorry, Curly," Varric smirked. "Just want to look out for you. You know if things get too shitty there you can take the tunnel under the Waking Sea, or a ferry, and come to Kirkwall for Christmas and New Year. You never did reply to the invite me and Cass sent out."

"I know," groaned Cullen sitting up. His back twinged, a small reminder of his tumble on the ice a few days previous. "I'm sorry. I was in a rush when I was arranging all of this." Cullen suddenly felt tired and weary. Everything was getting confused again.

Who was he kidding? Everything was always confused. His talk with Nevena the night before was just to protect himself, and her. He didn't want to get involved beyond their arrangement, he didn't know what doing that would mean, or what it might entail. He didn't want to get hurt. He didn't want to hurt her. He cared for her. He told himself putting a figurative wall up between them, setting barriers and boundaries was for the best. It would prevent things from going any further. It didn't matter. The night before all he could think about as he tried to fall asleep was the kiss in the kitchen and knowing that she slept in another room, with only a door between them. He wondered if Nevena had thought about the kiss as she tried to fall asleep, too. If she'd struggled to sleep as much as he had.

Cullen wasn't sure what was happening. He'd never experienced a sudden loss of sense when it came to love before. With women in the past, it was always gradual before his feelings began to stir. Dates upon dates, phone calls, and text conversations of getting to know one another. Cullen prided himself on rarely, if ever, giving into base instinct and desire. Falling hard and fast for someone was unknown and uncharted territory, and it didn't help that he wasn't sure if it was real or not.

"Varric," he groaned pushing his face into his hands. "Do you think I'm in over my head?"

"Possibly," Varric said. "But you should ride it out. You might be surprised with the outcome."

"Nice and vague," laughed Cullen. "Thanks."

"That's what I'm here for. Now," Varric clapped his hands together, "aside from my book, which is an amazing gift admittedly, what else have you bought your friend-client?"

"Nothing?" Cullen shrugged his shoulders, meeting Varric's eyes through the webcam. "I thought the book would be enough."

"No, Curly. No," Varric shook his head like a concerned uncle. "The book is a great gift, don't get me wrong. And I'm not just saying that as the author, but you can't give her something that personal in front of her family."

"Why not?"

"You just _can't,_ okay. Don't fight me on this, trust me. I know what I'm taking about."

"Okay, okay." Cullen relented. "So, what, get her something else?"

"Not _a_ thing. A few things." Varric hummed thoughtfully. "You don't want anything that's going to overshadow the book, but get her a few things that will go over well. Hollow gifts, y'know? Sweets she likes. Something for her apartment. If you're feeling daring and want to give the impression to her family everything is great between you, lingerie."

"I am _not_ buying her underwear," Cullen growled, hoping the camera did not pick up the way his cheeks flared. "I don't even know what size she'd be."

Varric chuckled, rubbing his hands together in a gleeful way that put Cullen on edge. "Just, take my advice, get her some small things that are pretty basic. Nice smelling soap or something. Or just joke gifts."

"I'll do that." Cullen reached towards the lid of his laptop. "I'll go now."

"Great idea." Varric leaned back in his chair. "I should probably call my publisher back anyway..."

"Thanks for sending the book, Varric. I'll let you know how it goes over."

"You better." Varric shot him a look. "And, seriously Cullen." The tone of his voice gave Cullen pause as he was closing the laptop. "If you need to get out of there, my place is always open. The invite for New Year stands. And that extends to your friend-client-not-girlfriend."

Touched, Cullen smiled, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Varric waved briefly. "Let me know how the book goes down. Talk later, Curly."

"Bye, Varric."

Cullen shut his laptop and got to his feet. He quickly smoothed his hands through his hair and over his shirt, easing away wrinkles in the clothing. After a quick glance around, he found his set of keys to the cabin, his phone, wallet, and car keys. He piled them up on the table in the kitchen paused, staring hard at the door to the bedroom.

It wouldn't be considered snooping if he was looking for ideas for small gifts, would it? And really, as long as he didn't move anything, Nevena would never know he'd been in the bedroom. He chewed his lip and the inside of his cheek for several moments before breathing in deeply and striding towards the room. A brief look, to get a few ideas, he wouldn't _touch_ anything.

As he turned the door handle he half expected Nevena to walk in the front door and catch him. Even though his intentions were innocent, his stomach was near his feet as he inched the door open and peered inside. He had only seen the bedroom once, when he and Nevena first arrived. It was the largest room in the cabin, aside from the main living area. The focus was the large double bed in the middle. Made of wood, it looked like some kind of sleigh from the way it was carved. The bedding was a soft duck-egg blue, complimented by walls of a similar colour. There were pictures of landscapes hung on the wall and a large double window that opened out onto the road and pathway leading up to the cabin itself.

Though Cullen did not know what to expect, he was surprised to find the room as tidy as it was. For some reason, he expected Nevena to keep things in an organised chaos - this was... neat. The bed was made, and the covers pulled back to let them air. Sitting in the middle of the bed were two cuddly toys, a dinosaur of some description and a bright cobalt blue manta ray. Cullen smirked looking at them, finding it endearing Nevena brought them all the way from home. Her pyjamas were folded on the mattress, glasses on a night stand, sitting beside her tablet.

Pyjamas would be too personal, and he was already getting a book shipped in, so another book was out of the question. He went to the dressing table where various items were laid out. A make-up bag, several different hair brushes. He wasn't getting many clues and went to the bathroom to get an idea what she liked to use on her skin.

The en suite bathroom was really a large shower room, all tiled walls with smart, warm stones, a silver shower head the size of a dinner plate was suspended from the ceiling. The floor sloped slightly in one corner so the water all ran down to the plug hole, there was a screen between the shower and the sink, but that was it. In the shower cubicle, Cullen examined the shower gel on the floor. Bright yellow, spicy smelling with an underlying sweetness. Not an offensive smell at all, and one Cullen had grown accustomed to, being around Nevena and was sure he would recognise if he needed to. He glanced at the label to see if it was named.

" _Loveswept Sunset_ …" he read and laughed to himself. "Are you kidding me? Sounds like something Varric would name one of his books. Who comes up with this stuff…"

It wasn't much, but it was something to keep in mind. He left the bedroom, closing the door securely behind him. After picking up his bits from the table and taking his jacket off the coat hooks by the door, Cullen went quickly to his car and began the journey to Edgehall. He hoped he might luck out and some random items might jump out at him. He'd never been particularly imaginative when it came to gift giving, but whatever he bought now, he knew the book would make up for it.

* * *

Nevena patted her satchel as she set it down on the ground beside her. Inside was Cullen's gift and while it was sturdy and heavy, she didn't want it to get scuffed or damaged in any way, so she was being particularly careful with it. Ineria sat opposite her, stirring sugars into her coffee while tutting at her phone, mumbling about one thing or another.

They'd been in Edgehall together for almost four hours, and despite the rift in their relationship and the confrontation only two nights before, things were cordial between them. Cordial but cool. It was about as good as their relationship ever got. Nevena had learned never to expect an apology from Ineria as children and now was no different. There was not even a whisper of an apology or admittance of guilt for her behaviour that evening. Nevena knew Ineria well enough to know she'd likely brush it under the carpet for now, and bring it up again when it suited her.

Edgehall was busy as the Christmas day approached and shopping days diminished. The market was still going strong but Ineria's needs took them into the small shopping centre situated in the middle of the town. Made up of two floors, most of the shops were a part of large chains. There were gaudy Christmas lights hanging over head, with tinsel, and sparkling glass snowflakes while over the Tannoy system Christmas songs were played on repeat. Nevena was sure she heard the same one play five times in an hour and would be glad when they left.

Despite her going into Edgehall the day before and buying more than enough food, Ineria was still grabbing things left and right. Every shop they walked past, Ineria peered in the window, hummed, went in, spoke to the frazzled sales assistants and if they could not accommodate her, she demanded to speak to a manager while Nevena cringed in the background, often mouthing 'sorry' to the employee durrently under duress. She wasn't sure how Ineria did it. It was like she was not in possession of shame. She lacked the empathy and patience required for the Christmas season and the stress those people working were under. If she was not able to obtain what she wanted, it was someone else's fault and she threatened to complain. Every shop they left, Ineria came out with a voucher or promise of good will.

Nevena was beginning to wonder how many of these people knew Ineria by reputation. A small community like Edgehall, and a problem customer like Ineria, news was bound to travel. Nevena kept her mouth shut, even if she wanted to step in on multiple occasions. She wanted to keep Ineria calm and receptive for when she approached the subject of Matilda, and getting in the way while she was laying into some poor temporary member of Christmas staff was not the way to do it.

When they stopped at one of the various chain coffee shops, Nevena was glad for the rest. She stretched her legs out and turned her glass of water around in her hands while waiting for Ineria to get whatever she was ordering. The night before Nevena had made a few bullet points, topics she wanted to mention to Ineria about Matilda and quickly went over them. Even as Ineria sat down, Nevena checked over her talking points on her phone, trying to memorize them so she could be more confident.

"Successful trip," Ineria remarked. She never looked directly at Nevena for too long, preferring to glance around and watch passersby. "We'll have these and go back to Haven. You can help me start prepping for Christmas Eve."

Nevena bit her tongue to stop from commenting. Never a request, always an order. "Sure," she said, clenching her jaw. She took a sip of water. "Ineria, I need to talk to you about something."

"If it's about the other night, don't worry about it," Ineria said, breezily, smiling. "I accept your apology without you having to make it. You always do like to make a scene."

"Uh..." Nevena squeezed her hands around her glass. "That wasn't..." A pause. It wasn't worth getting into. "It's about Matilda," she said slowly. "I want to talk about Matilda."

That got Ineria's attention. Her sharp gaze snapped to Nevena and she placed her coffee cup down in the saucer in such a deliberately slow way, Nevena was sure it was done in an attempt to frighten her somehow. Ineria dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. "What about Matilda?" Her voice was tight and her tone sharp. Nevena's stomach grew heavy. She knew she was stepping on sensitive ground.

"Yesterday while we were baking, we were chatting about school." Nevena began, keeping her tone calm and as non-confrontational as possible. "She's said some things that are… well, they're a bit troubling."

"What things?" Ineria asked primly. "If it's about the school play, I already know."

"You do?"

"Yes." Ineria sighed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "I went to the principle about it and got her the bigger part she deserved. My daughter is too good for chorus, just like I was. The girl who had the part initially began to cause Matilda trouble, and I went and dealt with it. It's fine now."

Nevena laughed nervously, remarking, "I don't think it is." Ineria's eyes narrowed as she continued, "Did you take into consideration that Matilda was happy with her chorus part? Or that she actually wanted to be involved backstage and only auditioned for a part because you showed an iota of interest in her because it was something _you_ wanted?"

"Nonsense. She's immensely talented an-"

"Of course she is talented," Nevena said, cutting Ineria off. She saw her sister's nostrils flare in anger. "But she's talented in a different way than you. Matilda is not an actress. She doesn't relish being on the stage, like you did."

"Don't be stupid. She was wonderful."

"I don't doubt that she was." Nevena held her jaw tight. "But Matilda doesn't _like_ being on stage or the centre of attention. Do you realise how clever she is? She's practically a math genius. She can do complicated equations in her head. She's been invited to do an advanced math class next semester. And she's _twelve_."

"So?"

Nevena blinked hard, several times. "So... why don't you embrace and support what she's clearly likes and has a passion for? She feels like you don't appreciate or like the things she enjoys and is passionate about."

"That's silly." Folding her arms, Ineria straightened her back. It was a gesture Nevena knew well. It was how Ineria signalled she was setting down for a long haul. This would not end well, but Nevena was already in too deep to back out of the conversation now. "I appreciate the things she's good at."

"Really?" Nevena snorted and copied Ineria's stance. "Did you know she got an award for math excellence at school? Or that the Mathlete team she's a part of came first in their age range?"

"I knew."

"And did you say anything?"

Ineria fidgeted in her seat. "No, but-"

"No," Nevena snapped. She realised then, noticing a flare in Ineria's eye, that she was allowing her concern for Matilda and her annoyance at Ineria get the better of her. She took a long breath and felt her shoulders relax. "Because it's not something that interests you." She watched as Ineria smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her shirt. "She actually asked me something really heartbreaking yesterday."

"Oh?" Ineria rolled her eyes again. "And what was that?"

"She asked if I ever felt like our parents never wanted me. Or didn't like me." Nevena leaned forward. "She was referring to you. She doesn't think you like her, or even wanted her. And she's twelve-years-old, Ineria. Twelve! She's a child, and children shouldn't be thinking or wondering those kinds of things about their parents."

There was a shift in Ineria's expression, a softness - almost like remorse - that appeared and then disappeared in moments. Nevena saw her sister's face harden again. She set her jaw, her arms tightened a little across her chest and she lowered her shoulders. Though she would not look outwardly angry to anyone else, Nevena could see the rage building behind Ineria's eyes. She was outraged, insulted.

"I know you love her, Ineria," Nevena said, trying to subdue her. "I know you love all of your children but-"

"No," Ineria hissed. "You've said your piece."

"Ineria. I'm trying t-"

"How _dare_ you lecture me about my own child!" Ineria glowered, her eyes blazing with barely controlled anger. "You have no idea how hard I work. How much I do. I don't know everything about my daughter, but I love her immensely. You come here for a few days and think you can lecture me! You don't _have_ children, Nevena. What makes you think you're qualified to tell me, a parent, how I am doing?"

"I work with kids on a daily basis, Ineria," Nevena replied in a steady voice. "I see kids every single day whose parents don't appreciate or even acknowledge their achievements, and instead brush them aside because their achievements do not mesh with their parents'. It's what you're doing with Matilda now, and if you're not careful, the damage to your relationship will be irreparable."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Ineria's fingers clenched on her clothes.

"You are living vicariously through your daughter. You were the star of every school production and you want Matilda to be just like you." The stillness in Nevena's voice was giving way to her frustration. Ineria wouldn't listen. She _never_ listened. "But Matilda _isn't_ like you. Matilda is her own person, and she is a brilliant, intelligent, generous, sensitive, bright person. But you refuse to see that in her, unless it's in doing what _you_ expect of her."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Ineria said again, more fiercely. Her hands flew to Nevena's, knuckles white as she gripped and dug her nails into top of Nevena's hands. Nevena flinched at the quick movement and at the way the table jerked. As children a gesture like that often meant Ineria slapping her around the face. She wouldn't do it in public, but Nevena still felt a familiar, phantom sting in her cheek. She saw Ineria's lips curl into an unpleasant smirk and tried to pull her hands away. "You think you can lecture _me_ on children and family? Please, that's laughable. What do you know about family, Nevena?"

"I-"

"Nothing. At least nothing of real note," Ineria released her, leaving crescent moon shaped divots in Nevena's skin, and began to gather up her things, collecting bags and checking that nothing was missing. Even as she did, her eyes did not leave Nevena's face for longer than a second. Nevena could feel a throb in her hands where Ineria had pushed her fingernails deep. "You don't have your own family. You weren't even wanted by this one," Ineria sneered. "You are a poor, unworthy replacement who has nothing to offer. You are worthless. You always have been worthless. You always will be worthless, and it's high time you realised it." She didn't raise her voice - she didn't even change the cadence of her words. She simply spoke them, each syllable sharp and dripping with venom that seeped into Nevena's conscious. The space behind Nevena's eyes prickled sharply. She clenched her jaw to keep her chin from shaking but she could feel her eyes welling up. Ineria always knew where to attack, where she was most sensitive, and she could bring Nevena to nothing with so little. Ineria knew it too. But this...The look of triumph on her face made Nevena's skin crawl and go cold. Ineria got to her feet. "You should really look in the mirror before you go trying to fix other people. Especially when you're the only one that needs fixing.

Nevena took a slow breath, "Matilda-"

"Is _my_ daughter, and nothing to do with you," Ineria said coldly. She stood, and approached Nevena, bags in one hand. The other she placed on Nevena's shoulder and squeezed, hard. "Thank you for your _insight_ ," Ineria murmured to her. "However, just like you, it is unwanted."

A cold chill ran down Nevena's spine. She shivered as Ineria dug her fingers into her shoulder and released. She didn't move for at least thirty seconds. Her eyes were wide and painful when she finally blinked. Tears ran down her face and she quickly wiped them away. She would not make a spectacle of herself out in the open for everyone to see. If she was going to cry then she'd at least do it somewhere secluded.

She just needed to remember how to move.

Nevena's whole body felt like it was locked up. Her legs were almost solid and she struggled with remembering how get out of her chair. Breathing was hard too; her chest felt constricted and squeezed, every breath a hard gasp of sheer desperation. Her chest wouldn't expand enough to fill her lungs. She fought to stay calm, at least until she was away from everyone. If she could manage that, she could get through this and make her way back to Haven.

To Skyhold, and privacy.

To Cullen; the safety and comfort he provided would be a panacea to everything.

Her mind was spinning. Ineria was never nice to her, but what just passed between them was vicious. The malice and the anger was almost palpable. Ineria had never made her distain for Nevena secret, but it was like she was unleashing _everything_ now. All the years of resentment and pain building up and being allowed to fester like an infected woundhad become a bubbling over cauldron of hate.

And that was it. Ineria _hated_ her. Nevena realised that now. It wasn't simple sibling rivalry or differences. It was legitimate, unabashed hatred.

Aware that her tears were coming quicker, Nevena forced herself to her feet. She grabbed her satchel and swung it onto her shoulder, rubbing her eyes quickly on her sleeve. Someone behind her yelled and they whacked her bag.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Nevena choked out. Her throat was closing over, as if it wasn't hard enough to breathe already. She took a desperate gulp of air, tucked her head down and started walking.

 _Breathe._ She told herself, trying to remember how to bring herself out of the panic and anxiety threatening to drown her. Drowning. She was drowning. How did that happen? Drowning in a sea of people and silently screaming. There were faces all around her, a cold floor underneath her. Glances of confusion, distain, disgust. Someone touching her. Hands. Too many hands. Too many voices. Too much was happening.

Her vision clouded at the corners, her clothes constricted around her, limiting her movement. They reduced the air she could get. They stuck to her like glue. She was uncomfortable, itchy. Every inch of her skin felt like it was crawling and there was something underneath, digging frantically to get out. Wherever she was, she forced herself to her feet and ran. Her lungs were burning with every forced breath as she weaved and ducked around people, and pillars, and decorations. She didn't know where she was going, what she doing - even where she was seemed like a distant memory, forgettable within the pain.

Every step was hard. The ground was hard, but it felt like she was trying to wade through mud. People were still staring. She heard them ask after her, saw their eyes see her face, tear stains and red cheeked. Several people reached out to grab her as she ran. Nevena recoiled and flinched from each hand, every finger. What if they caught her? What then? She could hardly breathe, let alone form words. She knew she needed to find somewhere isolated and safe. If she could do that she could bring herself down, bring herself out of the panic and everything would be fine. She would be fine. She could do this. She'd done it before.

Ducking down a hallway that seemed more deserted than the rest of the shopping centre, Nevena's vision darkened because of the lower light. There were no bright, white festive lights in the corridor and the merry tingling of music was quieter here. Everything was already dulled by the blood pumping in her ears, but the rest of her senses were in overdrive. Nevena ripped up the sleeves of her jumper and checked her skin. There was nothing moving, nothing trying to dig out, yet she scratched for good measure - just to make sure. The sensation of her fingernails raking over her skin was a pleasant, sharp sensation. It gave her clarity, just enough.

Finding a corner - a wall, somewhere that she felt safer and not quite so open - Nevena dug around in her bag for her phone. She fumbled with it, struggled with her security code several times and just managed not to throw it against the wall on her third failed attempt.

"Come on, Nevena," she gasped angrily at herself. " _Think_!" She slammed her head back against the wall. It hurt, pain ricocheting down her neck and over the top of her skull. The pain throbbed. Nevena entered her passcode successfully.

She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve as she scrolled through names with trembling fingers. Her eyes hurt when she rubbed them. Her eyes lashes were clumped together and she could taste salt on her lips when she licked them.

When she found the name she wanted she began to type. It was more difficult than she remembered, trying to spell a word correctly. She managed it after a several attempts. With the message sent, Nevena pulled her knees into her chest and buried her face into her legs.

"I'm alright," she told to herself in a low whisper. "I'm alright. I'm alright." She just needed to believe it.


	13. Safe and Solid

_December 21st, mid-afternoon_

Cullen once believed he was quite good at buying gifts for women. Having two sisters helped, and in the past he managed to buy thoughtful, personal presents for his sisters, female friends, and old girlfriends without much of an issue.

Today he was willing to believe all those instances were flukes and that he just lucked out every time. Either that, or Nevena Trevelyan was frustratingly difficult to buy for, when her main gift was already a personalized, hard back edition of her favourite book. Everywhere he looked in Edgehall there were _potential_ gifts he could buy, but none of them leapt out at him screaming that Nevena would like them.

So far all he had purchased was a photo frame, remembering the photograph of her and her sisters. He hoped maybe this new one might hold a photograph with a more fond memory. The frames itself was white wood with patterns carved out and filled in with a bright turquoise resin, the same sort of colour as some of the decor in her flat. He also bought her a scarf, because he was clutching at straws and was not entirely sure if she would even wear it. But it was something at the very least.

At that moment, he was eyeing up a necklace in the silversmith's stall at the market. There were an assortment of chains and delicate silver pieces laid out allowing customers to pick each and choose the charm and chain. Cullen was considering it, having spotted a dinosaur charm similar to the toy on her bed, but was still not certain. He worried that a necklace might be too much, too forward… but then, given they were pretending to be in a relationship, a necklace would be suitable. Wouldn't it? He didn't know, and that was half of his problem. They were friends, but their arrangement required gifts to demonstrate a more intimate relationship than that. He was trying to find gifts that were somewhere between the two relationship stages, and it was proving more difficult than he first imagined.

Stepping away from the silversmith's stall, telling himself he would think about it, he felt an insistent vibration in the back left pocket of his jeans. As he checked the screen to see if he recognised the number - he did not - he shifted out of the main thoroughfare of people to one side so not to get in the way. He did notice there were a number of missed calls on the screen though, and texts. He worried that it might have been an emergency, his sister trying to get hold of him perhaps.

Briefly clearing his throat, he put this phone to his ear, thinking it was a potential client.

"Hello?"

 _"Hi!"_ A woman's voice came through on the end, crisp and a little high pitched. Cullen thought he recognised it from somewhere. _"Uh - is this Cullen? Rutherford?"_

"Yes," Cullen answered. "If this is about a-"

 _"You probably won't remember me. My name is Roselyn Cousland-Theirin. I called you on behalf of my friend, Nevena Trevelyan?"_

Cullen furrowed his brows. Why was Nevena's friend calling him? "I remember you. Nevena's brought you up a few times."

 _"Great,"_ Roselyn said sharply. _"Uhm, do you know where she is?"_

"No..." Cullen's stomach plummeted to his feet and a cold sensation slithered through his body making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He took a calming breath. "She was coming into Edgehall with her sister."

 _"Which one?"_

"Ineria. The oldest."

 _"Fuck,"_ Roselyn snapped. _"I had a feeling... Why the fuck did she agree to go anywhere with Ineria? Ineria is a... bitch."_

Cullen began to walk to warm himself. "Ineria's daughter, Matilda, asked Nevena to speak to her. I think Nevena believed this would be the only opportunity where they would be alone."

 _"Makes sense."_ On the other end of the phone, Roselyn sighed loudly and Cullen could hear another voice and barking in the background. That was all he heard for a good thirty seconds before he lost his patience at being left, dangling, at the end of the phone.

"Roselyn!" he snapped, raising his voice a little in the hopes it might get Roselyn's attention. "I'm still here."

 _"I know,"_ Roselyn snapped back. _"I'm trying to think."_

"What's going on?" demanded Cullen. "I'm in Edgehall right now. Is she okay? Did something happen? If she's told you where she is, I can go and find her."

 _"She's hasn't told me anything,"_ sighed Roselyn. _"I got a couple of garbled texts with some code words we set up when we were in college. If she's texting rather than calling, I can only assume she's in too much of a state to talk."_ The frustration in Roselyn's voice increased and she growled softly. _"This is just like when Rick was stalking her and she would get scared. Shit."_

Cullen stopped abruptly and blinked hard, his breath catching in his throat. _"What?"_ Rick... _stalked_ her? That was new. Cullen's urge to find her grew tenfold.

 _"Nevermind,"_ Roselyn huffed. _"You said you're in Edgehall?"_

"Right now." Cullen began to make his way through the crowds of people in the market, not entirely sure of a direction. Standing around wasn't helping, at least if he was moving he would feel more proactive and like he was doing something. "She hasn't said where she is?"

 _"No."_ A sigh. _"Look, I'm going to keep you on the line. Chances are I can get her to give me some vague directions or landmarks near her location. If I give them to you, do you think you could find her?"_

"I can certainly try," Cullen said. "Edgehall isn't huge, and if I don't know where something is, I'm sure someone will."

 _"Okay. I might go quiet for a bit."_

Cullen continued to walk following the same path back and forth through the market while he held his phone to his ear, waiting for information. He heard a rustling sound, Roselyn's voice a bit further away and speaking to someone who wasn't him. It was hard to tell if she was typing a message or not, but Cullen could only assume she was from how frantic her voice was and how clearly she was worried.

He was worried now, too. He knew Nevena spending time alone with Ineria was a bad idea. Even if it was for the benefit for Matilda, he knew it his gut it would turn out poorly. Nevena said herself, Ineria could poke and prod at the most sensitive and personal parts of her. He worried about what state he might find Nevena in. Was she prone to panic attacks like he was? Or was she beside herself, and that's why she couldn't speak? He had more questions now too. Roselyn let something slip about Rick and it made Cullen's whole body go cold. The knowledge that Nevena was once stalked by him made Cullen dislike her ex even more than he already did.

Stomach churning over and over, Cullen tried to be patient while he waited for information from Roselyn. If Nevena was texting then at least she was coherent enough to do that. It wasn't much, but it was something. He hoped she was safe. Preferably with someone who could comfort her until he was there. Not that he was much good at comforting anyone, but he preferred the idea of her with someone than alone. She wasn't a child by any means, but the sense of protectiveness Cullen had towards her was overwhelming. At this point he was ready to take Nevena back to Denerim to protect her from her family, disregarding her own choice entirely.

Of course, there was the possibility that he was jumping to conclusions and that in fact he would find her a little tearful and weepy, but otherwise totally fine. That in fact he was cooking up the worst case scenario because that was what his mind did. Even if Nevena wasn't as bad as his mind painted, he would offer what little comfort he could, just for his own piece of mind.

He scratched and rubbed his chin repeatedly as he often did when worried, and wondered if he should begin his own search as the quiet dragged on the other end of the phone. He peered over the heads of passersby, hoping to catch a glimpse of a head of golden blonde hair. Or her hat. Had she been wearing a hat when she left the cabin that morning? He couldn't recall. In fact, the more he thought about it, Cullen couldn't recall anything she was wearing that morning, only that she took her satchel with her.

 _"Okay!"_ Cullen almost dropped his phone when Roselyn's voice came through. _"I got some information out of her. It's vague."_

"That's fine."

 _"She's inside the shopping centre,"_ said Roselyn. _"Do you know where it is?"_ "Yeah." Cullen began to walk in the direction of the building. He had yet to venture inside it, preferring the shops in the market place, but he knew where it was. It was the building on top of where he parked his car when he arrived earlier. His strides were long and purposeful - something in his expression must have given away his intent as he noticed people parting to let him pass. "Anything else?"

 _"A hallway, she thinks she's on the second floor where the food court is. And... she says she can see a green sign which says something 'outdoors'."_

"Alright."

Cullen kept Roselyn on the line as he walked. She continued to feed him information from brief texts she was receiving from Nevena, all information that was useful in locating her in the hive of people and noise. The shopping centre was unpleasantly warm by comparison to outside, and the festive music drowned out a lot of Roselyn's voice causing Cullen to have to plug his other ear when she spoke. Inside, the masses of people didn't move when he walked. Often he was forced to weave and jostle around groups of people crowded around shop windows.

Eyes scanning every direction possible for a hint of green, Cullen realised suddenly just how many shops used green in their signage. He focused on looking for outdoor shops, or stores that specialised in outdoor activities. Those were few and far between and he was able to narrow it down after stopping and asking a security guard.

The store in question was a small one, tucked onto the end of a long parade of shops on the second floor. It was for camping gear and equipment. Opposite the camping store was a corridor with lower lighting than the main shopping centre. There were signs indicating the way to a fire exit and stairs but there was little else. One end was barred by double doors with the words 'emergency exit' on a large sign hanging above it in red. Cullen assumed the corridor wasn't used much or saw much foot traffic and that was why Nevena chose it to take refuge in.

He was gladdened to see she wasn't alone. A woman was with her, not quite kneeling on the floor. Cullen could hear her offering a few soft murmurs as he drew closer.

"Roselyn?" Cullen spoke into his phone. "I found her."

 _"Is she okay?"_

"I don't know yet," Cullen approached "Let me call you back in a bit."

He hung up before Roselyn's spoke again and slid his phone into his back pocket. His steps were slow, and the woman with Nevena glanced over her shoulder when he was speaking to Roselyn. He tried to smile at the woman, who quickly turned her attention back to Nevena to inform her that there was someone else there.

When he was close enough, Cullen put the few items he bought to one side and dropped to be on the same level as Nevena and the middle-aged woman. Up close he could see Nevena was trembling, her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were puffy from crying. The back of her right hand was marked with fierce scratches and a few dried streaks of blood. There was a pile of tissues next to her, torn up into tiny fragments. Her breathing was short and shallow, she sniffled occasionally, and her hair was a mussed nest, tangled around her face and shoulders.

Without a word, Cullen inched closer and reached out one hand. He ran his fingers along the back of Nevena's hand approaching slowly. He traced the angry red marks her nails had made with the tips of his fingers before lacing his between her own. The middle aged woman watched him with hawk-like alertness, examining his every move.

"Do you know this man, honey?" she asked Nevena, her eyes never leaving Cullen's face.

Cullen couldn't blame the woman for being protective or not trusting him. There were sick people in the world who would take advantage of an opportunity like this. Asking Nevena made more sense than asking him. He could lie. So could Nevena, of course, but in the state she was in now, Cullen doubted it would even cross her mind.

"Y-yeah." Nevena nodded once and a brief, weak smile came to her lips. She looked at Cullen, eyes meeting his and then dropping to the floor. She was embarrassed, just as he had been when they were in the cable car when they went skiing. "He... He's..."

"I'm her boyfriend." Cullen gently gripped Nevena's hand. Saying that would mean less questions from Nevena's good Samaritan. "Do you know what happened?" he asked the woman.

"Not really." The woman shook her head. She was in her late-fifties at least, but dressed younger. Glamorous, a round face, and pink cheeks. Her hair was a sandy colour, clearly not natural, but it suited her. "I was coming down from the break room after finishing my shift when I found her." She explained. "I was about to head home, but she was in a terrible state. Crying and hyperventilating. I managed to get her to calm down a bit, but she wouldn't let me call one of our first aiders. Said it's just a dizzy spell, and it will pass..." The woman looked uncomfortable. "I didn't want to make things worse by gathering more people, so I decided to stay until she felt better."

"M'sorry," Nevena mumbled.

"Thank you," Cullen added, "for being on hand and respecting her wishes. I think more people would have made the whole thing worse." He shifted his position to sit on the floor. The cold tiles chilled his backside through his jeans and the bottom of his back complained against the hard floor. "She texted me earlier. We were meant to meet," he lied, and it came so easily he was a little surprised. "When she didn't turn up I went looking."

"Has this happened before?" asked the woman.

"Not since I've known her." Cullen pushed some of Nevena's hair back from her face and behind her ear. Her mouth quirked and she met his eyes for an instant. He didn't even think about when it he pressed his lips to her forehead. The relief of finding her felt wonderful. A wash of coolness washing away the panic. "We're staying in Haven. I'll wait for her to calm down a bit more and then we'll head back."

"Okay." The security guard shifted away and began to gather up her things. She pulled out a small notepad, jotted something down on a page and tore that out. She folded it, and handed it to Cullen. It was a telephone number. "Give give me a call and let me know she's okay," the woman said. "Otherwise I'll be worrying all night about her."

"Will do." Cullen smiled, grateful. He folded the number and slid it into his back pocket. He knew he was unlikely to call but it seemed impolite to refuse. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The woman patted Nevena's shoulder gently. Cullen noticed that Nevena flinched away slightly from the woman's outstretched hand. He tightened his hold on her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. "Feel better, okay sweetie?"

Nevena nodded. "Thanks," she croaked out.

Cullen released a long breath through his nose once the woman was gone and the only people left in the corridor were himself and Nevena. He slid along the floor until he was sitting beside her, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out before him. Aside from taking her hand, he did and said nothing. He tilted his head back and counted the tiles on the ceiling, waiting. He would not pressure her to talk if she didn't want to. He only wanted her to be calm enough that they might be able to make it back to the cabin and to more familiar surroundings.

Nevena's breaths slowed and deepened gradually. Occasionally her fingers tightened around his hand and Cullen reciprocated the grip.

"What are you even doing here?" Nevena asked after a long silence. Her voice was strained and she cleared her throat a few times, swallowing thickly. "You were up at the cabin."

"I was," Cullen said. "I came into Edgehall to get some things."

"Oh..." Nevena wiped her eyes. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Roselyn called me. I guess she still had my number from when she called me the day we met." Cullen turned his head to look at Nevena. She was staring down into her lap. "She told me you texted her a code word and given that she's in Denerim... figured it made more sense for me to come and find you."

"Makes sense," Nevena murmured. She ran her a hand through her hair. Her fingers were trembling and her skin was cold. "I feel so stupid."

"What happened?" asked Cullen. Nevena's head rose, turned sharply and her eyes met his. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Ineria," Nevena said with a weak smile. "Ineria happened. Like she always happens."

"Can you… elaborate for me?"

"She got upset that I was trying to give her advice about Matilda," explained Nevena, her voice still strained. "I probably went about it the wrong way. She started saying how I shouldn't have an opinion, given I don't have a family of my own. And that no one wanted me. Or wants me." Nevena scoffed and she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. "Thing is... She's not completely wrong, either."

Cullen watched and waited for her to continue. He wanted to interject, to tell her Ineria was a liar who didn't know what she was talking about. He wanted to tell her she _was_ wanted. To tell her that _he_ wanted _her_ , but he stopped himself. He didn't think speaking up or ask questions, though they burned on his tongue would be helpful. More likely doing so might cause Nevena to close up and bottle everything away. He wanted to help, and being silent for now, letting her say whatever was necessary would help.

"I got upset. Stupid, really."

Cullen shifted. "Where is Ineria now?"

"Gone back to Haven, I imagine," sighed Nevena. "After we... said our pieces, she left. I assume stranding me in Edgehall was part of the plan. I could've gotten a taxi but..."

"Kind of hard when you're hardly able to speak?"

"Yeah." Nevena smiled a little, she cracked an eye open for a moment before closing it again and releasing a shuddering breath. "Something like that, I suppose."

"How did you get here?" Cullen looked around the dingy hallway.

"I... ran. I think." He saw Nevena's brows scrunch up. "It's a blur. After Ineria left I... I was upset. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to find somewhere private to get myself together but... with the people and everything... I think I fell over."

"Panic attack?"

She shook her head. "Anxiety. I was diagnosed with it about two years ago. I can keep it under control. Mostly." Her breath shook a little. "It's just... Oh, I don't know." Nevena pulled her legs up into her chest and pressed her forehead against her knees. She still gripped Cullen's hand with her left, and her right arm came up to cuddle her legs. "I made such a fuss. And I had to text Roselyn. It's so humiliating."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about." Cullen moved closer. He slid his fingers from Nevena's hand and tentatively slipped his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Nevena relinquished to his hold and he enveloped her in both arms. She nestled close against him, curling her legs underneath her body, hiding her face in his neck and shoulder. His insides were coiling like springs. It was hard to know if this gesture was crossing their 'friendship' boundaries or not. He just felt like she needed the extra connection at that moment, and it was all he could think to do. "We all have our weak spots. Some people just know how to exploit them. And," he added with a feeble chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, "at least we're equal with panic-slash-anxiety attacks."

"I guess." Nevena's voice was muffled.

"I'm just glad you're okay," said Cullen, nestling his cheek against her hair. "If anything had happened to you…" He sighed, scrunching his eyes closed and banishing the thought. She was safe. He was with her. He didn't need to worry any more. _I was worried about you._

Cullen could feel the occasional tremble shock through Nevena's body as he held her, winding one hand down her back steadily. She didn't begin to cry, or even sniffle. He believed she might have passed beyond the realm of being upset and into aftershock. That this was the same numbness he felt after a panic attack, where everything seemed lucid and he didn't feel like he was moving the same speed as the world around him.

He counted the seconds between the breaths he took and noticed her own breathing slowing as she copied the rhythm he set. He focused on that, because he knew if he didn't he would focus on everything else. From the smell of her hair filling his nostrils, to how nice she felt in his arms, delicate, slight, and soft. Perfect. Any anger he might have felt towards Ineria was quelled and silenced by a flame of protectiveness. He wanted to keep Nevena safe and away from the noise and bright lights beyond the corridor. They would need to move eventually, but for a few minutes more, they could remain.

It was selfish of him, really. To be enjoying this privacy and intimacy after Nevena had experienced something so horrific and public, but it was a thought that lingered at the back of his mind. It was nice, to hold her so closely, and have the warmth and weight of her body pressed against his. To feel her breathing and be able to brush his mouth over her forehead, kissing her skin in an act of comfort. It was selfish, but Cullen wanted to allow himself that moment of selfishness, because he knew when she was calmer and more herself, a chance like this was unlikely to arise again.

She fiddled with the buttons on his jacket to occupy her fingers. Once or twice a shopper walked past the corridor and glanced down, seeing them both embraced on the floor. They had the decency not to approach or interfere, giving Nevena all the time she needed to collect herself. Time was of no consequence. It might have been an hour or more before either of them moved. Cullen was more than content to remain, and hated the sense of disappointment he felt when Nevena remarked that they should leave.

* * *

Nevena moved first when she was ready. She shifted in Cullen's arms, making some murmured apology and a suggestion that they should go back to the cabin. Cullen followed her lead in everything from getting up to walking through the shopping centre. Nevena's steps were sluggish but she was on high alert for everything. Loud noises made her wince, and he noticed a few instances as they walked when someone nearby moved too quickly and she flinched cowering away from a perceived threat. Cullen drove them back to Haven and the cabin in a relative silence.

It was pitch black outside by the time they parked up outside Skyhold and he unlocked the cabin door. It was warm inside their temporary home and Cullen quickly shed himself of his jacket. Nevena did the same, ridding herself of her boots on the way to the bedroom too. After turning on the main lights, Cullen followed her.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, lingering by the door.

Nevena shuffled around in the dark of the bedroom feeling her way around the bed. "No, thank you," she mumbled. "Sleep. Just... sleep. I'll eat later. Tomorrow. Maybe."

"Okay." Cullen wasn't happy with her not eating, but he knew if he tried to force her or convince her to eat, he would go unheard. He watched as she stumbled over something and yelped putting her hands out in front of her to catch herself. To prevent any injuries and because he knew the main light might be a bit bright, Cullen crossed the room to the vanity table and turned on a lamp. Soft yellow light spilled out from that corner of the room, and a little extra light leaked in from where the bedroom door was half open. Cullen froze in place, his eyes widening, when he saw Nevena in the mirror. She was naked from the waist up - except for her bra - and she was busying herself with the button and zipper on her jeans.

 _Fuck._

Cullen's face bloomed with colour and his chest grew uncomfortably tight. He knew he should look away but his gaze was fixed on view of Nevena's bare skin. She was slim, almost straight up and down with a tiny waist and hips about the same width as her shoulders and dimples at the base of her back. Her skin was slightly tanned, and he saw her freckles were most predominant on her arms, her shoulders. He realised how much his gaze was lingering on the view of her thighs and backside as she bent over the bed, grabbing up her pyjamas and tore his gaze away from the view of her in the vanity mirror.

Despite having had girlfriends before and seen more than a handful of women naked, Cullen couldn't help feeling as though he was intruding on something very private. This was not for him, and he wondered if Nevena even realised he was in the room or if she was too mentally drained to care. He blinked rapidly and stared down at the table before him to centre himself. He listened for the rustle of fabric while counting backward from twenty to try and calm the blood rushing through him and making him feel overheated.

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was better than this. Letting base instinct and desire fuel him was beneath him and not something he ever did anyway. And yet... coupled with the memory of the kiss the day before, Cullen's found his mind beginning to wonder what her skin would feel like under his hands as she arched up -

 _Nope_.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the visions, Cullen jerked away from the desk and frog-marched towards the bedroom door. His cheeks were burning and he wanted to go outside into the cold and potentially lie down face first in the snow. He would never allow anything to happen, he knew that. But now he had an image in his head... an image that was not going to be easy to forget. He wanted to kick himself and turn back the clock so he didn't look in the mirror as Nevena was undressing. Better yet, he wouldn't have even gone in the room.

"Cullen?"

 _Double fuck._ His hand paused over the door handle.

"Where you going?"

Steeling himself, Cullen turned half a step towards Nevena. She was in the bed, duvet pulled up to her chest and leaning up on one arm. Her hair was all spilling over one shoulder, leaving the other tantalizingly bare, except for the strap of her pyjama top.

 _Triple fuck._

"Uhm... To the living room." He jerked his finger at the room, keeping his gaze on her face and nowhere else. "If you're going to go to bed."

"Oh." Nevena's voice was small. "Okay."

He could feel the question bubbling up and the words ramming themselves onto his tongue. _Don't do it, Cullen. Don't fucking say a word._ He flexed his hands at his sides, opening his mouth to bid her goodnight. "Do you want me to stay for a bit?"

Nevena flopped back. "Up to you." She tucked her dinosaur toy under one arm.

Cullen looked between the bed, the living room, and back again. He knew he should call Roselyn and let her know Nevena was safe and they were back at Haven. He should call the house too, let them know Nevena was safe – if they even cared – and give Ineria a piece of his mind. He knew at least Roselyn definitely needed and wanted to know Nevena was safe and that she was okay. He should call her. He _needed_ to call her and get out of this situation…

His selfishness won out. He left the door open, crossed the room to the unoccupied side of the bed and sat.

Every move and gesture was a betrayal. Even after setting ground rules and reiterating their relationship was strictly friendship, he was breaking the boundaries already. There were other things he knew he should be doing. He should have left and gone for a walk. Gone to calm himself down. Spoken to Varric, or better yet, Cassandra, who would _definitely_ put him straight. He should have grabbed up his things and left because he lost his will and senses around Nevena Trevelyan. He should have never agreed to this if he knew he would be challenged so much and find her so alluring. But he _had_ agreed to it, and now, as he slid his feet out of his shoes and lay under the covers beside her, he knew he really was in over his head.

He lay on his back uncomfortably aware of every breath and every movement he or Nevena made. He stared at the ceiling, at the light coming in from the living room and the soft glow from the lamp on the vanity. His right hand rest over his chest and his breathing was deliberately slow and measured. His left hand he opened and closed digging his fingernails into his palm with each inhalation. He would wait until she was asleep and then go into the living room. Then he would kick himself and berate himself until he associated Nevena Trevelyan with a verbal bashing the likes of which had never been seen.

"Hey, Cullen?" Nevena didn't move from where she was curled up, her back facing him.

He turned his head. "Mhm?"

"Thanks for finding me. And looking out for me," she said.

"You should really thank Roselyn." Cullen replied, smiling to himself. "She's the one you contacted in the first place."

"I guess…" Nevena moved a little. "I'm sorry, too."

"Sorry?" He shifted, rolling onto his side and closer to her. He was only moving to hear her better. Her voice was muffled. There was no other reason for him shifting to be closer to her. And when he gingerly placed his right hand down on the covers, his arm arching over her body it was because there was nowhere else to put it. "What are you sorry for?"

"Everything," Nevena replied. "Being such a nuisance. You didn't sign up for this... For looking after me. Or dealing with my family. Or… or any of this."

"Nevena..." He touched her arm.

"It's... I would understand if you wanted to go and cut the contract short. I wouldn't blame you. And I'll still pay you for the whole time," she spoke quickly. Cullen could almost see her face, eyes clenched closed, wrinkle in the bridge of her nose as she fought to get her words out before anyone interrupted her. "I just... wanted to you know. If you left. I wouldn't... There would be-"

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay..." Cullen moved closer. He didn't think about his gestures or the implications behind his actions now. He wanted to comfort her, to be near her and reassure her that he wasn't angry. That she owed him no apology, and nor did he expect one. He slid his hand down her arm and wrapped it around her waist cuddling her into his chest. After a moment or two, he felt her fingers shyly sliding between his and his stomach squirmed pleasurably. He pressed his forehead to the nape of her neck and sighed. "You can't get rid of me that easily... I'm not going anywhere."

 _Especially not without you_. He wanted to add, but didn't.

Nevena gave a small sound of acknowledgement a little before nestling into his embrace. Cullen closed his eyes, his skin prickled and warmth slid down every limb like being submerged in a bath. It had been a long time since he felt the contentment of sharing a bed with someone settle over him as it did now. The familiarity of trust being built and maintained. The comfort, the warmth, and the sense of affection welling up inside him. He was tempted to kiss her shoulder blade. Just let his lips graze her skin wordlessly, and make believe it was an accident caused by movement. He did not, he did allow himself to gently nuzzle the nape of her neck as he exhaled heavily.

He realised he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. Not that doing so would change anything. He was too involved. His feelings for Nevena Trevelyan ran far deeper than he wanted to admit. Leaving without her was out of the question. He would endure a hundred Ineria's and a hundred Nevan's if it meant keeping her close and safe.

Even so, after this, once she was asleep, he would extract himself and things would resume as normal. This was a onetime only thing. She needed the comfort and he was there to give it to her. After this, what they said the day before still applied, as it did now. His own feelings didn't matter. He could ignore them and they could go on as normal. As friends, and as though there was nothing else between them. Nothing complicated or potentially confusing.

They were friends. Only _friends_.

He would lie to himself until he believed it. Even if it hurt.


	14. Explanations pt 2

**_TRIGGER WARNING, PLEASE READ:_**  
 ** _I want you guys to be safe and comfortable reading this fic, so please, please be aware this chapter contains mentions of the follow:_**  
 ** _mental, emotional, and physical abuse, sexual coercion, non-consensual sexual acts (brief mentions of), gas lighting and stalking. Please take care of yourselves while reading this chapter. If any of the things mentioned are triggering or upsetting, or you find yourself getting overwhelmed, please, please take care of yourself first. Your mental well being is far more important._**

* * *

 _December 22nd, early morning_

When Cullen woke with the softness of a mattress beneath him, his first thought was he was home in Denerim, in his own apartment and in his own bed. Without opening his eyes, he stretched his arm out over in the direction of his bedside table looking for his phone to check the time. When he continued to press down on soft covers, he groaned and opened his eyes, peering blearily into the low-lit room.

In an instant, he remembered where he was. He jerked up quickly, dislodging a weight from on top of his left arm. Nevena stirred beside him giving a soft moan of protest at being disturbed. Cullen held his breath, waiting for her to settle and go back to sleep. She did not stir again and he gave a small sigh of relief, willing the slight sense of panic he felt to disappear. Last thing he needed was an awkward conversation pertaining to where his hand was – draped over her hip, completely innocent.

Despite the alertness he now felt, he paused a moment and watched her sleep. He noticed the slow rise and fall of her arm over her chest and listened to the steadiness of her breathing. A smile came to his lips, unbidden.

The last time he had slept with anyone was several years ago and he had forgotten how good this part was and how much he enjoyed it. Waking up with someone and the quiet calm that came with it. The contentment and warmth gained from realising you were trusted so much by someone, that they were willing to let you be with them at their most vulnerable. A section of hair lay over half of Nevena's face as she moved and rolled from her back onto her side. Cullen considered pushing it away, but the gesture would be too intimate and familiar. He thought better of it and instead reached into his back pocket where he could feel his phone buzzing intermittently.

Cullen winced when he tapped a button for the phone to come to life. He was sure sleeping on it was probably not the best way to treat such a delicate piece of equipment and wouldn't be surprised if it was broken. It flashed to life. Screen intact, battery a little low, but otherwise in the same condition as before.

On checking the time - nine minutes past midnight - he also saw in the last few hours he received no less than six missed calls and a handful of voicemails and messages, all of which were from the number he now recognised as Roselyn's. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, just to wait until Nevena was resting and then he planned to call Roselyn back. That clearly backfired and now he wasn't sure if it would be considered too late to call her and let her know everything was fine.

As he considered it - the etiquette of late night calls to near strangers was not exactly something he was knowledgeable about - his stomach growled loudly. Cullen grimaced, realising how hungry he actually was. The last meal he had was around mid-morning the previous day. Skipping meals wasn't that unusual for him, but his body often complained when he did. He also wasn't sure when Nevena had last eaten. If she woke soon he could only assume she might be a little hungry.

Quelling his hunger his primary objective, Cullen gingerly climbed off the bed, pausing to smooth out the duvet where he had slept. He tip-toed around the bed to the door, holding his breath and wincing each time he put a foot down on the ground in case it woke Nevena. He wasn't sure if she was a light or heavy sleeper, and didn't want to find out as he was sneaking out of the bedroom. Anything to avoid uncomfortable or awkward conversations.

Once the door was securely closed behind him Cullen released his breath. He went to the kitchen, putting his phone to one side, and examined the food in the fridge. He could whip up something simple with what they had, and would make extra in case Nevena woke up. After preparing some eggs and finding the utensils he would need, Cullen returned his attention to his phone and the messages while waiting for the oven to heat up.

He checked the messages. _  
Unknown number:  
Any news? It's Roselyn.  
[18:31]_

 _Seriously? Is she okay? I haven't had another message. I'm worried. Roselyn (again).  
[19:02]_

 _Text me back, let me know she's okay. Still Roselyn.  
[19:40]_

 _HELLO?!  
[20:00]_

 _Don't make me drive up there.  
[20:13]_

 _You could at least pick up the phone.  
[21:21]_

 _I'm going to bed. Just text me when you get these messages. If I haven't heard from you or Nev by tomorrow, I'm driving to Haven and bringing her home myself. I'm not joking.  
[23:25]_

Cullen deleted all but one message as he read them and erased the missed calls from his notification bar also making a mental note to delete the voicemails the next day. He leaned on the kitchen counter as he began to type out a reply.

 _Hey, sorry for not replying or picking up the phone. Nevena is safe, we're back at the cabin. She's okay. A little shaky, I think. Couldn't get much out of her. She wanted to lay down when we got back and we fell asleep. She's fine though. I'll ask her to call you tomorrow.  
\- Cullen_

He sent the message and turned his attention back to cooking. Thirty seconds later, his phone began to buzz insistently on the counter. He grabbed it and put it to his ear, "Hi, Roselyn."

 _"What do you mean you fell asleep too? With her?"_

"No," Cullen sighed. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes. "No, nothing like that. She was drained when we got back and wanted to sleep, so I let her. I was tired, so I slept too. Separately." He hoped he sounded convincing. "Didn't you say you were going to bed half an hour ago?"

 _"I'm in bed,"_ Roselyn replied. _"And my husband is - Alistair, stop it - is trying to take my phone away - Alistair, I swear! No, stop it - Give me my -"_

 _"This is Roselyn's husband,"_ a sleepy male voice croaked through the receiver. _"She's going to bed now. Tell Nevena to call her when she's up to it. That'd be great, thanks."_

Before Cullen could reply, the call cut off and he stared at his phone, bemused. He wondered for a moment if he interrupted something, but quickly rid that thought from his mind, deciding he didn't want to know. After putting his phone onto charge he returned to the kitchen to continue cooking. With the oven now heated, he slid a tray of bacon rashers inside and set the timer for ten minutes. Bacon and scrambled eggs - breakfast food was good no matter what time it was. And it was bound to be breakfast time _somewhere_ in the world.

He cooked in relative silence, broken only by his own occasional hum and cleaned up as he went. While waiting for the timer he tidied the living area, dimming the main light and turning on a couple of lamps to make things less harsh. He wondered if Ineria was sleeping soundly after putting Nevena in such a state. If she told anyone about how her day with Nevena unravelled. Did anyone even ask her why she left with Nevena and came back alone? Would any of Nevena's family even care?

Cullen was discovering a new appreciation for his own family after being around one like Nevena's. His siblings bothered him sometimes, and as children they had bickered a lot, but they were good people. He loved them intensely, and they loved him. He owed them more than he could possibly repay and knew that if any of them ever needed him, he would drop whatever he was doing in an instant. And the same could be said of them. One value their parents instilled in them all was how important family was, and it was a value Cullen tried to uphold. Being around Nevena and her family, he was realising that perhaps not everyone believed that or felt the same way.

He was putting serious consideration into offering to take Nevena back to Denerim again following this most recent upset, when he heard the bedroom door open. He stopped what he was doing, eyes snapping up to Nevena walking out into the main living area. She wore her grey hoodie over her pyjama top and had pulled her hair back into an unruly ponytail. Glasses on, she looked sleepy, as though she was still in the process of waking up. Her face and eyes had lost the redness of earlier, and she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve as she approached.

"Hey," Cullen greeted her, keeping his voice low. He put the spoon he was using to stir to one side and wiped his hands on a dish towel before coming around to where Nevena was standing. "How're you feeling?" Instinctively his hand went to the back of his neck. Stupid question to ask.

"M'okay." Nevena smiled wearily. "You're cooking?"

"Are you hungry?" She didn't want to go into any detail, Cullen wouldn't ask. "There's enough for the both of us."

"Sure. I could eat, I guess." She stuffed her hands into the pouch on her hoodie. "Do you need any help?"

"No, nearly done." Cullen returned to the kitchen. "Take a seat."

Cullen dished up two plates and they sat in uneasy silence. Nevena picked at her food, eating little and spending more time staring at it than anything else. Cullen didn't take it personally - he could only imagine what was rolling around in her head. That she managed a few mouthfuls was better than nothing. There were questions piling up in his head that he wanted to ask. Questions that he wasn't sure were good ones, or even the right ones to ask. But then, what were the right questions to ask in this situation? Were there any questions he could ask that wouldn't seem insensitive or as though he was prying into her life?

He kept his mouth shut on personal matters, choosing to stick to more mundane topics of conversation. There were brief moments of awkward small talk, interspersed with longer periods of silence and the clink of metal on ceramic. When Nevena pushed her plate away, Cullen took it and went to the sink with both. If he tidied and made a show of being tired, maybe they would both go to bed and things would be less uncomfortable in the morning. That was the hope at least.

* * *

Nevena went from the dining room table to sit on the sofa. As she sank down on the cushions, Cullen saw her pull her knees up into her chest. Whatever passed between Nevena and Ineria earlier seemed to have had a profound effect. This was a new side to Nevena, a new subdued and quiet side that Cullen wasn't sure he liked. It was weird and made him feel uneasy.

"Were you on the phone earlier?" Nevena asked as Cullen washed up.

"Yeah." Cullen put the clean plates to one side. "You friend Roselyn called me after I texted to let her know you were okay. She wants you to call her in the morning."

"Okay."

"If you're feeling up to it," added Cullen. He dried his hands on a clean dish towel. "She was threatening to drive up here."

"Sounds like Roselyn," sighed Nevena. While he couldn't see her face, Cullen felt like there was more she wanted to say. His mind was blank of words and platitudes he could give that might make her feel better anyway, so he waited, busying his hands with putting cutlery and crockery away. "Hey, uhm..."

Cullen turned his attention to her. "Hm?"

"Come here for a minute." Nevena indicated to the couch. Wiping his hands on his jeans, Cullen went and perched at one end. Nevena watched him sit. Eyes down cast she stared at her hands, winding her fingers around each other. "Do... Do you want to know why I kind of disappeared from my family for three years?"

"I thought it had something to do with your ex," Cullen said, slowly. He relaxed his position, leaning his elbow on the back of the sofa and his head against his fist. "That's the impression I got."

"It does. In part." Nevena lifted her gaze to him. "There's more to it. I feel like you deserve to know. Given... everything. That maybe it will..." She trailed and pushed her face into her hands. "Or not. It could be stupid."

Reaching over, Cullen gently wrapped his fingers around hers and guided her hands down from her face. "Tell me. Only if you want to."

"I want to." She stared at him, face drawn and tired, but a quiet determination set in her expression. Her brows furrowed, she exhaled deeply and nodded once. "Just... try not to see me as a terrible person afterwards, okay?"

"Okay." Releasing her, Cullen leaned back against the sofa and waited.

Nevena leaned her head back.

Before coming out of the bedroom all her thoughts were organized and intact. Now she was sitting with Cullen, hard truths on the tip of her tongue and waiting to be divulged, and she didn't know where to begin. There was so much to say and she worried what Cullen might think when he knew the facts. She didn't want him to hate her, or to see her as a terrible person in the way she viewed herself, and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would be like Roselyn and his opinion wouldn't change. Who knew? She wouldn't until she said something.

"So..." Nevena began. Her voice was quiet and she kept her eyes mostly on her hands in her lap. "My dad is a pack rat. He keeps everything. Receipts that are decades old, shopping lists, _everything_. As you can imagine that means he has a lot of filing cabinets and stuff." She pushed her fingers back through her hair pulling it from the messy ponytail it was in. "Around October three years ago, he and my mum were getting ready to move. The house they lived in, the house I grew up in, was too big for them as they aged. My mum had a hip operation, and they were moving somewhere smaller with no stairs. It was autumn break, so I went to help my dad go through all the papers he had."

Cullen shifted. "Your sisters?"

"Busy," shrugged Nevena. "Kids. Their own lives. And I didn't mind going to help. Despite appearances, my dad and I get on. We... _were_ close. Anyway, most of my dad's files were in the attic. He and I were up there going through things. I found one cabinet were each draw was labelled with our names. One for Ineria, one for Clotilde, one for Arienne and one... for me." She began to rub the skin on the back of one hand, dull scratches creating faint reddish reels. "My sister's drawers contained old school reports, school photos, leaflets from open days, birthday cards they made for our parents when they were young. Sentimental stuff. Dad had to go downstairs to empty the shredder bin; I wanted to see what my parents kept from _my_ childhood."

Pausing, she took a deep breath. Her chest was tight and it hurt to breathe so hard, but the sensation of air filling her lungs and being expelled gave her a moment to focus and centre herself. A moment she needed.

"My drawer had some stuff, reports, a few other things... nothing on the scale of my sisters'. But... one thing stuck out the most. At the far back of the draw was one file. It didn't have anything written on it, but opening it I came across adoption papers. A lot of them." She pursed her lips, still staring at her hands to avoid looking at Cullen. "I was adopted when I was a baby. There were no details about who my parents were or… anything, really so I think it was a closed adoption from what I've researched online. All I found out was that I was adopted when I was eight months and my birthday is May 21st." Nevena chuckled a little and began to twist a segment of hair dangling by her face. "Suddenly a lot of things made sense to me, like the fact there were no photographs of me before I was one-year-old, and that my mum and sisters were so... cold towards me growing up. I wasn't considered part of _their_ family, not really, and no one ever told me."

Cullen moved a little closer to her, quickly pushing a hand through his hair as he listened intently.

Nevena curled her legs underneath her. "I was… confused and angry. I never told my parents or my sisters that I found out. I probably should have, but I didn't know how. So, at the time, running away so I could get my head straight seemed the better option than confronting it. I made my excuses to my dad and went home. At the time, I was dating Rick and over the four years of our relationship he had... whittled down what confidence and self-esteem I had until it was practically non-existent. His controlling nature put blockades between me and all the friends I had before him, including Roselyn. He was the only person I felt like I could trust because he orchestrated it that way.

"Stupid, really. I told him what I'd discovered and his response basically boiled down to: _'I don't care. It doesn't matter to me, it shouldn't matter to you. Let it go.'_ Every time I brought it up he would get angry with me for dwelling on the past, so I stopped. I bottled it up. Christmas came, we spent two days with everyone at my parents' house before they moved. I'd spent three months keeping everything in check and tightly controlled. Every minute I spent with my family that year, I was fighting not to scream or burst into tears." She smiled wryly across at Cullen. "Perfect time for a proposal, right?"

"Rick... proposed to you _then_?" asked Cullen.

"He'd asked before; made hints and suggestions. I always said I wasn't ready or that I didn't want to ever get married. The truth is, I didn't want to marry _him._ " She shrugged her shoulders. "I'd tried to end things with him so many times before, but always ended up backed into a corner feeling guilty for hurting his feelings. He used the same backing-me-into-a-corner tactic that Christmas. He knew by proposing to me in front of my whole family I wouldn't say no. I wouldn't do it because I wouldn't want to deal with their criticism. It was the perfect opportunity." Nevena's hands returned to her lap, the rubbing and light scratching resumed. Cullen reached across and took both her hands without a word. "Rick asked me... I said yes because everyone was watching, staring... I regretted it a moment later and I think... I think that was my breaking point. We didn't live together, mercifully. When we got back to Denerim he tried to come in to my flat. I said no. I gave him the ring back, said I couldn't marry him. That I didn't want to be with him, and I closed the door in his face."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Nevena nodded slowly. She realised she was staring at a pattern on a cushion on the couch, blinked hard and sighed. "I hoped that would be it." She met Cullen's gaze, her lips curling into a small smile. "Stupid and fucking naïve of me."

Cullen shifted, moving a little closer on the couch so he was no longer leaning against one arm of it. He still kept a gentle hold of Nevena's hands and she noticed how _nice_ his hands were. Distinctly bigger than her own, his skin had a rough texture, warm, but there was no real grip in his hold. She could pull her hands away and he would allow her to.

"So, what happened with Rick?"

"Let me give you some context about Rick," Nevena said. She pushed her glasses on top of her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "He'd always been possessive and controlling, since the day we met. Our first date he ordered for me, food, drinks, everything. When we were together, he would get so jealous of everything I did. If I went out with friends, he would text and call obsessively, demanding to know where I was, and who I was with, and when I would be home. We weren't even living together. He would turn up at places I was spending time with friends and interject himself into my social circle. Sometimes he would act… weird, like, just do little things that only I noticed, and when I would confront him, he would say I was imagining it. That I was overreacting to him being friendly and wanting to get to know my friends." She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. "On the rare occasions he admitted wrong-doing his go to apology was along the lines of _: 'I just don't like you doing anything without me. I care about you too much. Thinking about you with other people makes me crazy. Just don't do it, and we'll be fine.'_ "

"Are you serious?" Cullen's voice held and element of disbelief. " _That_ was an apology?" he scoffed.

"Oh yeah," Nevena nodded, "and as time drew on, his 'apologies' became non-existent. He berated me until I was a shell of the person I was when I met him. Eventually he came up with a strategy to win every time we argued - which was a couple of times a week at least. Only used it when he was in the wrong though. If I was in the wrong it was something he would exalt in, crowing about it like it was some victory to lord over me."

"And this strategy was...?"

"Say and do nothing," Nevena smirked. "He was asthmatic and he used it to get his way. Arguments would usually start because he was in the wrong and refused to admit it. I'm not saying I was perfect, but I at least admit when I wrong - he would remind me of it all the time, of course, but that's beside the point. When he was wrong, and I would try to get him to admit it, he would do this... this thing. At first he would just sit, put his fingertips together, like this," she demonstrated, "and stare into the middle distance. He wouldn't move, would hardly blink. At first it would creep me out so much that I would crumble immediately and take the blame myself. Sometimes I would let it go on for a long time, the silence just growing and growing. It's why I sometimes talk endlessly to fill silence. It can make me uncomfortable.

"When I started trying to stick up for myself and not put up with his crap he would begin breathing really short and fast breaths. He would try to bring on an asthma attack, and succeeded several times. After a year or so, the silence wouldn't last and the short breathing would begin almost instantly until he was on the verge of an asthma attack. It got so bad, and I was always so scared he would bring on a bad episode I would apologize over and over, but he wouldn't stop until I was literally on my knees, crying and begging him to stop, and saying I was the one in the wrong, and that he was right. He was _always_ right."

"Can I ask," Cullen huffed, his cheeks pushing out on the breath he exhaled. "I don't really know how to phrase this... You don't have to answer, if you don't want to. Tell me if I'm…" he cleared his throat, "did he... ever...?"

"Get violent?" Nevena finished.

"In a manner of speaking."

Her lips curled at the corners into a grim smile. "Sometimes. At first he would just... threaten it. A fist would fly past my face and hit a wall when he got angry. Or he would lash out as if to smack me and stop himself at the last minute, resorting to patting my cheek, when I'm sure he meant to slap me." She bit her lower lip. Maybe this was too much information. Maybe she should stop. For Cullen's sake, as well as her own. Talking about Rick always filled her with dread, and now was no exception. She wished the lights were brighter, the amount of shadows were making her uneasy - she could just imagine him stepping out from the gloom. "He... uhm..." She scrunched her eyes closed and breathed deep. "He preferred leaving bruises that weren't obvious. That weren't immediately visible." Opening her eyes, she levelled Cullen with a look. "If... If you catch my meaning."

Cullen opened and closed his mouth. Nevena could see him trying to find a way to word whatever question was in his mind. "So... bruising? Under your clothing?"

"That. And he liked rough sex," Nevena said, hoping her grimace was not obvious. " _Really_ rough. He would leave bite marks, bruises, he drew blood a few times. He didn't respect boundaries, what I was comfortable with. Safe words didn't exist to him. And the words 'no' or 'stop' had no meaning... It was very... _him_ centric. As long as he got off, he was happy. Honestly, by the time things got that bad I... I'd lost almost all my will to fight him on anything. I'd lie there and take it." She breathed out uneasily feeling her chest constrict. Pain tingled behind her nose and she fought to hold back tears that were threatening to well up in her eyes. "I think it made things better for him. If I... _when_ I cried. Or bled. Or..." Feeling bile rising up her throat, Nevena swallowed thickly and the rest of her words died in her mouth.

"Oh." Cullen's face was grave. His voice still. "I see. I'm... I'm sorry. _So_ sorry that happened to you." He gingerly reached towards Nevena and she allowed him to take her hands. "If that was an inappropriate question to ask, I-"

"No," Nevena shook her head and sniffled. "It's fine. It's best to ask questions, if you want to." She swallowed again and closed her eyes to centre her thoughts. A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

"Nevena," Cullen said gently, "if you don't want to talk about this, please don't force yourself."

"No, no. I'm fine." She replied, trying to smile. "It's just... sometimes I feel like just thinking about him will summon him to wherever I am."

Cullen moved closer, "Nev..."

"Skipping forward to when I broke up with him," she continued hurriedly, "it went about as well as you can probably imagine. At the time, I was living in a building with maintenance and a super. Rick started kicking the door after I closed it. He was shouting, screaming, making a scene and threatening me through the door. I called down to the super, as did a few other residents apparently. Rick was escorted from the building and barred."

"That's good, right?"

"Hah, you'd think." Nevena gave a strained laugh. "Roselyn never liked Rick, and he didn't like Roselyn. While he and I were together, it created a huge chasm between Rose and me... We didn't talk for about a year, but Roselyn was the first person I called when I broke up with him. I didn't have anyone else I felt like I could tell. I would have understood if she'd put the phone down on me, but she didn't. She came over, sat with me, and we talked. I told her pretty much everything I'm telling you, now.

"She kind of took charge because I was flip-flopping between whether I'd made the right choice or not. I was terrified that Rick would bring on an asthma attack and hurt himself, and it would be my fault. Roselyn kept reminding me that Rick was a grown man. If he chose to do that, the consequences were on him..." Nevena sighed. "She removed Rick from all my social media, blocked him on Facebook, twitter. In the space of him being escorted from my building, he'd called and texted dozens of times. Roselyn blocked him on my phone. She went with me the next day to get my number changed. She was... amazing."

"Sounds like she really cares about you."

"She does," Nevena nodded. "She and Alistair, the both of them, were great through the whole ordeal. I crashed on their couch for a month one time, and they didn't complain at all. I'm really lucky to know them both."

"I take it changing your number wasn't the end of it?"

"Not even slightly." Nevena ran her hands back through her hair. "Eventually, I told my sisters and my parents. Rick had already told them and given them a tearful rendition of the break up and how I was being unreasonable. Naturally, they took his side over mine. I was given lectures from all sides, about how I was being selfish, how I would never find someone as good as Rick was. I tried to explain, and none of them would listen. My dad wouldn't speak to me, said I'd done irreparable damage to him and his fucking company." Tears burned her eyes and made the space behind her nose uncomfortable. Nevena rubbed her sleeve over her face gritting her jaw. She shuddered and told herself it was just the cold. "He didn't care at all about what damage Rick did to me over four years. None of them did."

"Hey, it's okay." Cullen moved closer still, until his knees were touching her leg. He took her hands again, and then moved his grip further up her arms until he was holding her gently by the shoulders. "Nevena, you don't have to continue, if you don't want to."

"No." She sniffed and took a few moments to regain her composure. "I do. I want to. I'm fine." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine. I can do this. Please let me. I want you to know. To… to understand."

"If you're sure." He sat back.

"I'm sure." A brief smile. "I am. So," Nevena huffed, dropping her shoulders. "After getting no support from my family, I decided to stick with the people I knew were on my side. I didn't count on my family trying to help Rick get back into my life, though. Ineria gave Rick my new number after the first time I changed it. It happened again, with Clotilde, and with Arienne. Every time I changed my number, they gave it to him. They all thought they were helping. They thought they were helping when they invited _him_ to a family get together where I was going to be. They loved Rick. Far more than they loved me, it seems... I stopped giving them my number after the fifth time I changed it. I didn't reply to emails from them. I didn't want them to be in my life if they were going to try and coerce me into a relationship I didn't want. If they wanted to have Rick over me, they could have him.

"The thing is, they never knew, or never wanted to know, how bad it got. How _close_ I came to..." Nevena shook her head and tucked her hands into her sleeves. "In the months following breaking up with him, a new side of Rick came out. A side I had only ever seen glimpses of. He started stalking me. He would be across the street when I left in the morning to go to work. He would be outside the school as the kids were going home. I would get letters from him containing photographs of me while I was out doing mundane tasks. He would write things like... he liked how a certain shirt looked when I was wearing it. The letters started off just plain pathetic and creepy, but they became violent. He would write about how he wanted to take me away, somewhere no one would find me, and-"

"Wait." Cullen spoke up, placing a hand on Nevena's. She looked up at him. His expression was hard, brows furrowed with a crease across his forehead. There was anger in his face, disgust too. His free hand was balled tightly into a fist, the knuckles white. "The police. You went to the police, right?"

"I did..."

"And?"

"They couldn't do anything."

A bark of laughter left Cullen's mouth. "You're joking, right? He was threatening to abduct you, he was _stalking_ you... and they couldn't do anything?"

Nevena shook her head slowly. "No. I mean, I had an officer to liaise with, Captain Aveline Vallen. She was the one I gave all the letters to, all the proof. But because he only threatened to act and hadn't actually _done_ anything, it was all circumstantial, stuff that could be used as back up proof if he ever _did_ go through with the things he threatened. It wasn't considered serious enough for a restraining order or anything. She said you can't arrest someone for planning something, only if they do it. Otherwise the police would arrest every person who threatened to kill someone in the heat of an argument or a drunken rage."

"That's ridiculous," Cullen scoffed.

"It's how things are..." Nevena shrugged. "Aveline was great though. She wanted to do more than she could, you just knew she did. But she was bound by the higher powers."

"And this... this behaviour carried on for eighteen months?"

"About that, yeah." Nevena swept her hair over one shoulder. "My life became all about working. I felt safer at work. It's a private school so we have security, and the head mistress, Madam Vivienne noticed I wasn't myself early on. When I told her what was happening, she increased security and had them on the lookout for Rick all the time - she was worried about me, but also the students. If he turned up, he was escorted off the grounds. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing and it felt good to have that security at work." Pausing, Nevena moved, uncurling her legs and stretching them out towards the coffee table. She winced through pins and needles shooting through her limbs.

"Honestly, going to and from work was the worst, next to being home. Sometimes he would be on the same train or bus as me and just... sit there, staring. Not doing anything, just following me. I would get off the train and run all the way home. I changed the locks on my front door, had a security alarm installed as well extra locks on the windows, just in case. I lived in fear for... a long time. There were times I wouldn't leave the house for days, I would keep the curtains drawn. I was diagnosed with anxiety. My whole life was spiralling out of my control because of one person. And aside from Roselyn and Alistair, I didn't have anyone else's support. My family picked Rick over me and as far as I was concerned, I was done with them."

"I'm sorry." Cullen took both her hands in his and brought them to his mouth. Nevena's skin tingled where he kissed it and she fought back the prickling behind her eyes. "For everything he put you through." The gesture and words were sincere and unexpected; Nevena's chest tightened a little when he lifted his eyes to hers. For a split second it was like she couldn't breathe. "I can't imagine what it was like for you."

"It wasn't the best time, no," she replied managing to catch her breath that hitched. "But, there's a happy ending. Kind of. If you're not bored."

"Never." He continued to hold her hands, thumbs making regular brushes over her knuckles. Nevena watched the repetitive motion. "Tell me."

Nevena cleared her throat. "Realising that he wasn't going to leave me alone, Roselyn hatched a plan to entrap him. She'd probably been watching too many true crime shows, but we all knew we needed to catch Rick actually _doing_ something. I gave her access to all my social media. She unblocked him and over a week messaged him as me. As me, she told him how much I missed him, how much I regretted breaking up with him, and that I was just overwhelmed with the proposal." Nevena laughed softly to herself. "I don't know if she expected it to work, but Rick bought it and within a week arranged to meet 'me'."

"But it was Roselyn?"

"Mhm-hm. She arranged the meet up on a school day after work. She and Alistair sat at a table with a clear view to where Rick was sitting. I wasn't coming. At all. I didn't even know she arranged this until later."

"Right."

"As Roselyn kept texting him on a spare phone she had, Alistair recorded the whole thing. As me, Roselyn told Rick I was running late and to order me something. I don't drink alcohol much, Roselyn knows that. So does Rick. She asked for a soda, he ordered some sort of soda vodka mix... And Alistair caught him on camera lacing the drink meant for me with something."

"Like... a drug?"

"Yeah. It was tested by the police after Rick was arrested. It was a tranquilizer, like rohypnol, that would have made it seem like I was very, very drunk if ingested. Effectively making me vaguely aware of things but not in control of myself, I guess?"

"So, he _was_ arrested?" Cullen asked.

"Roselyn called Aveline as soon as she and Alistair realised what Rick had done. Aveline arrived, Rick was arrested - without putting up a struggle, it was like he knew he'd been caught. He was taken to a holding cell temporarily and charged with possession of a controlled substance. When all the other evidence in relation to the stalking came to light, that was also added to the charges along with harassment... He was _supposed_ to get a long jail sentence."

"He didn't?"

Nevena shook her head with a bitter smile. "Not even a month. He was out on bail within twenty-four hours. Having a rich, influential family helps an awful lot. He was given a fine, community service, and a court order to attend a psychiatric evaluation. I think his family took him to Tevinter, or Antiva." She shrugged and pulled her hands from Cullen's to rub her arms. "I got my restraining order. Too little, too late. But I got it. And... then I moved to my loft. My old place just felt tainted. Since then, I've been trying to rebuild my life and my confidence."

"Oh."

"Yeah..." Nevena got to her feet, needing to stretch and put some space between herself and Cullen. She needed to put some space between herself and her account too. Talking about everything made her uneasy and recounting it all caused so much of the fear she felt then come flooding back. "Sorry, that was a lot to dump on you. I know it's kind of crazy."

"No, no, it's not that." Cullen stood up too. He ran his hands over his face and scratched his stubble. "I'm just... astounded, I guess? And angry. And confused, I think."

"Why?"

"Why did you think telling me this would make me think you're a terrible person?" Cullen crossed his arms over his chest. "If anything, I'm impressed by you. By how resilient you are. I'm about as much of a fan of your family as I was before, but you... You're just... remarkable. To experience that and still be the way you are."

A weak laugh fell out of Nevena's mouth. She grabbed the edge of the counter to support herself, feeling as though her knees were about to buckle. He was looking at her as though she were something or someone special. Like she was precious and rare. She was torn between asking him not to look at her like that, and never wanting him to stop looking at her in such a way. "I just... I thought, given how I handled it, with Rick, my family... I suppose I convinced myself I was a pretty shitty person for not really explaining to them. Or him."

"Sounds like you _did_ try to explain things to them from where I'm standing," Cullen said, "and fuck explaining anything to Rick. That your family valued him over you is... maddening to me. Did you show them the letters? The photographs?"

"Yep," Nevena snorted. "They accused me of having someone take the photos for me, writing the letters myself. Ineria was convinced I was doing it for attention. And I guess... I could kind of understand their view."

Cullen scoffed, "You're joking."

"No." Slowly, Nevena began to sweep her fingers through her hair, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "In front of them, Rick was always a gentleman. He was a chameleon. He was charming and funny, very charismatic in public, and it was only to me he showed his true colours... Of course, his dad and mine were friends since childhood," She chuckled. "I didn't stand a chance against _that_."

"Of course," Cullen huffed.

Silence fell between them for several minutes. Nevena busied her hands by putting away the crockery and utensils Cullen used earlier. She could see him reflected in the kitchen window, his expression puzzled and thoughtful. Clearly Nevena had given him a lot to think about, and he would need time to mull it all over. She felt odd, having disclosed something so personal to him. Tired, vulnerable, but oddly lighter. She entrusted him with something sensitive and private, just as he had; the ground they were on now was even.

"Can I just clarify something?" he asked.

"Sure." Nevena went and leaned against the arm of the sofa. "What is it?" She stretched her legs out before her.

"Was it your intention to separate yourself from your family when you found out you were adopted?"

"No," Nevena said, without a moment of hesitation. "I wanted space, some time to think. I told Rick because I wanted to talk to someone about it. To get my head straight. My plan was to approach my dad about it when the stress of moving was done in the New Year. But then everything with Rick happened, and when my family picked him over me, I think I realised how little value I held to them."

Cullen came and leaned on the arm of the couch beside her, "So, in that case, why did you agree to come here? For Christmas? Why did you agree to put yourself through this?"

She bowed her head, biting her lips while considering his query. It was a good question, one she asked herself several times over the last few days. "Because... they're my family," she admitted in a small voice. "They're the only family I've known. And they're not perfect. My sisters are judgemental, my mum is a piece of work, my dad is a dinosaur, but they're all I've known my whole life. I love them, for better or worse, even if some of them don't love me. I wanted to reconnect with them." She smiled as she turned her head and looked at him, realising he was watching her. "I know it sounds stupid and probably doesn't make much sense."

"Not stupid," Cullen sighed, "I understand. I think." He reached across and tentatively took her hand in his, sliding his fingers between hers. Nevena's face warmed. She stared at their hands connected in her lap fighting for each inhalation to settle the butterflies in her chest. "Your family have no idea what a remarkable person you are, clearly."

"I'm not remarkable," she said, breathing out shakily. "I'm no different to anyone."

Cullen's free hand brushed the underside of her chin, a feather of a touch but she felt as it as though he'd grabbed her. She allowed him to guide her head to turn until she was looking up at him, hoping her swallowing down on her heart thudding at the back of her throat wasn't as obvious as it felt. He was looking at her again, with a softness and warmth in his expression that made Nevena's stomach coil and her toes curl. She remembered the kiss in the kitchen. A tingle came to her lips and she struggled not to let her eyes flick down and trace the shape of his mouth.

"Yes, you are."

Maker, he was handsome. He was handsome and genuine, and kind. Maybe if they'd met three years, two years, even a year before, things would be different for the both of them. Maybe if she'd known Cullen before Rick, none of it would have happened.

He didn't speak, not with words at least. His expression spoke for him, the affection she saw in his honey-brown eyes making her feel like she could simply fall into him. Maker's breath, she wanted to. His fingers under her chin drew back and forth softly along her jaw line and up, tracing over the shell of her ear to tuck her hair behind it.

She was leaning into him, willing him to kiss her, willing herself to simply give in. She wanted that same heady kiss again. She craved the fire and need she felt behind every touch and it was so tantalizingly close. His hand curved around to cradle the back of her skull. She wanted it, _him_ , more than air, but a louder part of her mind was screaming. It would make things messy and confusing. It would only hurt more when the contract came to an end, if she allowed things to go any further. She didn't want to make things any more complicated. She didn't want him to feel like he should do this because of what she told him.

"Cullen," Nevena murmured, gathering every ounce of strength and will power.

His eyes slipped closed, his lips dangerously close to hers. "Nevena..."

She dropped her head so his lips pressed against her forehead. Even that was enough to make her heart stutter. "We shouldn't." Immediately his eyes flickered open. His cheeks were red and he pulled back, looking a little dazed. Nevena extracted her hand from his own. "I'm sorry." She slid off the arm of the couch and smiled weakly. "I just... I don't want this to be... weird."

He nodded a little, still wearing a look of mild confusion. "Yeah... yeah. I... I'm sorry, too."

"It's fine." Nevena ran her hand through her hair. "It's been a long night."

"Definitely." Cullen stood.

"I, uhm..." She reached for his arm, thought better of it and dropped her hand to her side. "Thank you. For listening. I mean... I appreciate you being so patient."

"Of course." Cullen slid his hands into his pockets. "Thank you for trusting me."

She felt awkward standing there, smiling half heartedly while desperately regretting not kissing him. A brief nod and she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. "I'm going back to bed," she announced. "Guess I'll see you in the morning."

"Not too early?" he laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Sure." Nevena closed the bedroom door behind her and quickly climbed back into bed. For a few minutes she stared at the door, hoping Cullen might just throw caution to the wind. Hoping he might come in, pin her down, and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. She would let him. She would enjoy it too, and keep him entwined in her arms until they were sweat slicked, and panting, and clinging to each other, unsure where one started and the other ended.

She bit her lip against the heavy, pleasant twisting of her stomach and quickly fled to the ensuite bathroom to splash water on her face. It had been a long time since she felt anything close to the way he made her feel. She wasn't sure if it was lust, or longing, or desire, a basic need for more intimate companionship, or more than that, but it was confusing and had the ability to overwhelm her better senses.

It was a dangerous feeling, and scary in its own way. Nevena wasn't certain if she wanted to embrace it or not.


	15. Recovery

_December 22nd_

–

Cold seeped into Cullen's skin through the rags his uniform was now reduced to. The manacles keeping his hands bound cut into his wrists and he could feel the raw wounds weeping with every tiny movement he made. It was days since the manacles were fastened around his hands and he was numb to their pain now.

Sharp barbs of iron pressed into the back of his thighs, preventing him from sitting or slouching. He was exhausted from forcing himself to remain upright, but sitting or lying down was out of the question. He couldn't allow himself to rest. He wouldn't allow himself to lose focus or to be vulnerable. There was no telling what would happen to him if he gave into the immense fatigue the plagued every beat of his heart.

Each time he closed his eyes, blinking, it was a monumental effort to open them. He couldn't remember the last time he slept. He hadn't eaten in days - he couldn't trust the food put before him by his captors. His throat was dry and cracked - the last drink he had was soiled, dirty water. And even that was beginning to feel like it had been a hallucination or a dream his sleep-starved mind conjured up.

He knew what things were real though. The burns and sores slowly healing across his torso were real. The rusted iron spikes pressing into the backs of his calves like hundreds of small knives were real. The pain where the edge of his upper lip was split was real. His dank box of a prison cell was real. The dingy lighting, the damp, stone walls, all real. His captors were real.

They were frighteningly real. Each day there was someone new who came to torment him. Someone new who spat in his face and shouted demands at him. Someone new who offered him food, clean water, a bed to rest his weary body in. Someone new who he stared at in resolute silence, refusing to give in to their demands and their tempting offers. His body and mind cried out for succor and sustenance.

Cullen refused.

Perhaps it was foolish pride or simple Fereldan stubbornness. Perhaps it was a misplaced sense of loyalty. He witnessed the brutalizing and butchering of his friends before his very eyes. He heard their screaming, their pleading to the Maker and begging for their mothers. He was the last one left. He had endured torture and people trying to twist his mind. He vowed to himself he would not give in for the sake of those who died before him. To do so would be an insult to them. It would be an insult to everything they stood for and believed.

In his delirious state, he heard footsteps approaching. His eyesight was poor in the dim light and the person drawing closer kept to the shadows. The squeak of his cell door opening made his head hurt. Ice cold water sloshed over him, drenching him from head to foot. He cried out against the shock and the immediate pain that followed. Water dripped from his hair and the remnants of his clothing. He mustered what strength remained in him and glowered at the figure standing before him.

"It could all end right now, you know?" The voice was female, husky and alluring to him. Even through the blood throbbing in his ears he heard her as clearly as if she were shouting. "You've impressed us. You've impressed me." She stepped towards him, reducing the space between them to nothing. Cullen watched her hand reach out and caress his bare skin between the tears and rips in his shirt. He recoiled from her touch and hissed at the sharp stab digging into the backs of his legs from the iron spikes behind him. "You don't have to be brave for me." Her voice was smooth and warm. She brushed her thumb over the split in his lip and Cullen winced at the slight pressure she applied to the wound. "My people could sew that up for you. Fix your pretty face."

He couldn't make out many of her features - the light was so low and it impaired his vision. He could make out where her eyes were, and the slope of a nose. Little else was visible on the woman's face. Cullen licked his lips, savoring the few droplets of water that remained. He swallowed and his throat stung. "I won't give in to you," he growled.

"Who are you staying strong for?" she cooed. Something in her other hand flashed at her side but it was too quick a movement for him to know what it was she held. "It would be a waste for you to die here like your friends." She inched closer until Cullen could feel her lips beside his ear and her breath brushing his skin. "I could make it all go away." Her hand on his chest descended lower, feeling down over his abdomen. "I could take you down from here. Make you feel better than you ever have before." The flat of her palm slid over his cock. There was the tiniest movement of his body betraying him. The woman chuckled, "Would you like that?" She rubbed again, "Wouldn't you like all the pain to stop?"

Cullen closed his eyes. Her hand felt good, and it was the first relief he'd had since Kinloch fell and he was captured, it would have been easy for him to give in to whatever she wanted. Or whatever her people wanted. He could have ended all the pain in that instant. Betrayed everything he believed and stood for. He tightened his jaw against her touch and pooled the strength that remained in him. He lunged forward as far as the shackles around him would allow him, not sure what he was aiming for, but determined to make a connection with something. The spikes dug into the muscle of his calves and thighs as his forehead smacked against the bridge of the woman's nose.

She cried out in pain and recoiled. Two other people Cullen hadn't noticed rushed past her, the two of them shoulder tackling him back into the iron barbs and against the back wall of his cage. Fists connected with his gut over and over again knocking the wind from him. Cullen heaved, doubling over feeling the pain flood over him and through every nerve like a shock of electricity. The spikes behind him pressed into his flesh and he could feel blood spilling from the small wounds they inflicted.

"Enough!" the woman commanded. The punches stopped. Cullen spat blood from his mouth at her feet, the familiar iron taste lining his teeth and tongue. "You stubborn, stupid boy." she snarled, pinching the bridge of her nose. It wasn't broken but Cullen could see a small droplet of blood. That alone gave him a sense of victory and triumph. "If you insist on doing things the hard way," she walked towards him with purpose. The item she held in her hand flashed again.

Cullen saw a blade and then felt it, a sharp stinging slicing through the sensitive flesh above his hip. She wasn't stabbing him, that would be too easy and potentially kill him. This was a cut, deep, long, and the first of many he would receive that day. Cullen bit back a groan of pain. A groan that became released as a roar when one of the other people layered some kind of grainy substance over the wound. Salt. Cullen knew it was salt from the excruciating pain that rocked through him. It was as if thousands of needles were being stuck into him all at once, the pain was excruciating and flooded all his senses, overwhelming him.

The woman grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. She pressed the flat of the blade to his cheek, leaving a smear of his blood in its wake. "Then we will do this the hard way. Until you learn when you're beaten."

The knife disappeared from view and Cullen felt it cut across his skin.

* * *

He jerked awake, yelling and drenched. Blankets tangled around his feet constricted him and he struggled to wrestle them off as he fought the panic racing through him. In his urgency, he slipped off the couch to the floor. His right side smacked on the edge of the coffee table. He yelped and heaved, grasping a hand to his side. Pain wracked through him making him squirm and writhe as though being stuck with so many blades over and over again. He didn't feel in control of his own body. It was like he was a marionette with its strings being twisted and tangled, utterly beyond his control.

Sweat soaked and curled his hair. The back of his neck was wet and the t-shirt he wore to bed stuck to him like a second skin, constricting and suffocating. His heart hammered fast and loud within his chest like a jackhammer. He struggled for breath to centre himself and to stave off the panic attack he could feel beginning to take hold. He squeezed his eyes closed. He could feel the blade sticking into him, hear the woman's voice, every word a purr. The features of her face drifted across his vision and Cullen shook his head to be rid of it. He remembered the expression she wore with every drag of her blade over his skin; the unadulterated thrill that filled her as she tortured him and tried to break him. He was trembling and afraid.

"Cullen, what - Maker's blood, Cullen!"

Somewhere a door slammed and suddenly there was a figure within Cullen's personal space. He recoiled from two hands reaching out towards him. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. His mind was awash with pain, his focus only on trying to quell the terror flooding through him. He was safe. He knew he was safe. He knew what he experienced was only a memory, and yet it felt so real. He could still smell the damp and musty odor of his cell as though he was still captive.

"Hey, hey…" A woman's voice, frantic and desperate, spoke to him, breaking through the haze. The hands he shied away from slid across his back. "Andraste's flame, you're soaked through. Cullen?" Hands slipped through his unruly curls and cradled the back of his neck. "Cullen, you're okay. It's okay…"

Whether of his own volition or because she was steering him, Cullen found himself lying on his side on the ground. His head was on something soft and a hand wound through his hair while the other clenched his right hand. The woman lifted his hand and pressed it to her chest. "It's okay. Breathe, Cullen, just breathe…" She took a long, slow breath and released it. She did the same thing over and over, steady, measured breaths, each one deliberate. He could feel her heartbeat racing and reverberate through her chest, a regular rhythm that helped him focus his mind.

The haze began to lift, his mind clearing with each shaking and painful breath. The mist of fear and of frantic dread started to diminish, little by little until there were only dregs of it remaining within his body. A poison he would never truly be able to shift. There were slender, delicate fingers curling a tuft of his hair steadily and he realized he was on the floor, his head on a cushion and in a lap. His body still trembling as the aftershocks slowly ebbed away, Cullen shifted very gradually, each movement deliberate and slow.

He turned his head peering at Nevena's concerned expression above him. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, loose curls and waves framing her face. There were defined wrinkles marring her forehead and the edges of her eyes and mouth. Her eyes looked as though they were glowing amber. He realized she was gripping his hand to her chest, that the heartbeat he felt was hers and he noticed how it was beginning to slow as her own fear started to ease off. Her fingers paused in their regular twisting of his hair. He wanted to protest - it felt nice and he wanted her to continue - but he couldn't find his voice just yet. Nevena pushed her fingers through his hair where it was sticking to his forehead and cleared it away.

"Hey," she smiled faintly, running her thumb along his eyebrow. "Welcome back."

"Hi…" he replied, voice rough and his throat stinging as though he'd vomited. He hadn't, yet he could taste the bile on his tongue and the old tang of blood. "We're on the floor…"

"We are." She nodded, still tracing and touching the contours of his face as though doing so was calming her. "You're too big for me to move back onto the couch by myself."

A low chuckle rumbled within Cullen's chest. It hurt to laugh and he gingerly touched his ribs where he impacted the coffee table. He supposed it was lucky it wasn't the same side where he landed skiing.

"Bad dream?" Nevena curled his hair behind his ear.

Cullen sighed and closed his eyes. "They always are." He didn't want to think about what was in his dream. Just considering it turned his whole body to ice. He curled up as much as he could into a protective ball, bringing his free arm around to cling to Nevena's waist. He nestled his forehead against her belly. At that moment he didn't care if it was too intimate or too familiar for their arrangement. He wanted the connection, he knew it would help. "I didn't mean to worry you," he mumbled, eyes still closed and inhaling deeply. She smelled nice this close, of ginger, and grass after heavy rain. It was a scent he could get used to.

She sighed above him, there was a movement and then he felt something brush his forehead which sent a pleasant tingle down his back. "You can let me worry about you a little." Her fingers resumed in their twirling and twisting his hair. He assumed it was keeping her calm, as much as it was helping him wind down. "Do you think you can move?" she asked after some time. "Back onto the couch? I'll get you a cloth."

"Mhm." Cullen's limbs felt lucid and his mind still a little muddled, but he managed to nod and slowly untangled himself. It took more strength than he had and Nevena's assistance for him to climb onto the sofa and his legs gave out as soon as he sat down. Nevena pulled the blanket up off the floor when she stood and folded it haphazardly. He flexed that hand she'd been holding, missing the contact.

"Don't move." She gave the order gently, and Cullen watched her disappear into the bathroom. Once she was out of sight he lifted the hem of his shirt. His torso was riddled with scars; more than he could count. Some long, some short, some were burns creating ugly centralized scars that looked like bullet holes. Each scar was an injury made with a purpose. He ran his fingers along the puckered seams over his chest and abdomen, physical memories of a time that haunted him. Each mark seemed to tingle in reaction to his touch, the scar on his lip most of all. He touched that carefully with his fingers as if fearing doing so would cause the wound to open again.

"Here, lie back." Cullen quickly pulled his shirt down to hide his skin when Nevena came towards him carrying a white cloth, still dripping a little at the edges. He did as she said and lay back, resting his head on one arm of the couch. He stretched out his right leg, the left remained dangling somewhat, his foot flat on the floor. Nevena placed the cloth over his forehead and slightly over his eyes. It was refreshing on his clammy skin and made him realize how warm he was. He cracked an eye open watching Nevena perch gingerly on the edge of the sofa. "Are you okay?"

"No," he shook his head. There was no point trying to lie. "But, I'll be fine."

"What was your nightmare about?"

Cullen kept his mouth closed and shut his eyes. He willed the thoughts plaguing his mind to leave him, to give him some respite and prayed the headache behind his eyes would recede if he stayed still long enough. "What time is it?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"Just gone seven in the morning."

Cullen groaned. "What time did we go to bed?"

"Around four."

"Great."

"You can always go back to sleep," Nevena told him softly. "You can take the bed if it'll be better for you."

"No… no. It… It's fine." Talking felt like hard work. Every word seemed to deplete what meager energy Cullen currently possessed. He peeked out from under the cloth. Nevena was curled up at the far end of the couch watching him with a worried expression. He wanted to assure her he was fine, but any idiot would be able to tell that was a lie. "Did I wake you?"

"You were screaming." Cullen grimaced and Nevena ran her hands through her hair, exhaling sharply. "I swear, I thought a bear had broken in. When I came in, you were just… writhing on the floor. I was so scared you were having a seizure."

"I'm sorry," Cullen sighed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't apologize," her tone was gentle but firm. "You don't need to. I don't expect it." She reached over and took his hand. "I'm just glad you're okay. You worried me there."

He laughed weakly. "Maybe that makes us even."

"Maybe." There was a rustling sound and Cullen saw Nevena pulling the blanket up around her legs and carefully placing it over his. "Try and get a bit more sleep. I'll stay awake."

Cullen would have argued if the idea of a few more hours of rest did not seem so appealing. He allowed eyes to close and the tiredness he felt to wash over him, hoping for a respite from the memories that hounded him.

* * *

When Cullen awoke again he found himself staring at the ceiling for several seconds while adjusting to being awake. His neck ached a little as it was still perched on the arm of the couch and the cloth over his forehead was gone. He felt groggy and a bit sluggish, his mind not quite in tune with the rest of him yet. Grime coated his skin from where he was sweating before, making one of his first thoughts a desire for a shower. He was calmer than earlier and was grateful that. He either hadn't dreamed, or the dreams were so vague he could not remember them.

As his mind and body slowly grew in synch with each other, he became aware of a few other things. First, a warm weight lying over him, another chest rising and falling in tandem with his, and messy tendrils of blonde hair tickling his mouth and nose. He brushed the hair away with his fingers wriggling his nose to keep from sneezing. After rubbing the crust of sleep from his eyes he blinked hard several times in succession to bring everything into focus.

Nevena slept on soundly, unaware of him waking. She was cushioned between him and the back of the couch, half her torso lying on his chest, with her head settled near his heart. One hand was balled into a fist by her face, the other arm was resting over his abdomen, rising and falling on each of Cullen's breaths.

His immediate thought was mild worry. How long had they slept? What day was it? Why was she sleeping on top of him? What put them in this position? He calmed his mind with a few long breaths, recalling how she curled up at the end of the couch when she told him to rest. That she said she would stay awake - given how late they went to bed and how early he woke her, he couldn't blame her for wanting some more sleep. As he looked around for clues to the time, he saw the blanket that he recalled her covering them with was only half on them, just about clinging on around his knees and her hips. His phone was just out of reach on the coffee table and while he wanted to know the time, he realized moving an arm could result in dislodging her, and he didn't want to cause any disturbance.

Resigned but not annoyed by his predicament, Cullen relaxed into the cushions. He wriggled down the couch a little so his head rested on a pillow rather than the arm of the couch taking away the strain. Gradually moving his arms, he maneuvered the one that Nevena was partly lying on to curve around her back and began to move his fingers up and down her spine and over her lower back almost immediately. With his other hand, he pushed her hair out of her face and off his. She snored softly, mouth open, eyelids flickering ever-so-slightly. The sight caused warmth to stir in his chest. He ran one finger lightly down the slope of her nose and along one eyebrow. Her face wrinkled and a groan of complaint mumbled from her lips.

This had to be the strangest and most complicated business arrangement he'd ever found himself in. Whether he liked it or not there was more to their relationship than either of them expected. It didn't matter if they wanted to admit it or not, it was there. It was palpable. The night before he'd wanted to kiss her for Maker's sake. Tried to kiss her. She was close to kissing him back, he felt it, until she stopped. Why would she have stopped it, unless it was because she felt something there and it startled her?

She was still his client, which made things more complicated. Maybe if they sat down, talked, put all their cards on the table, they could figure out what to do. Whether to carry on the facade, or let it drop and allow things to progress naturally. Things would progress whether they wanted them to or not, there was no stopping it now. It was like an avalanche.

Cullen would have gladly had that conversation right there and then. He hated game playing when it came to relationships and people he was interested in. And he was interested in Nevena. Very interested. More interested in her than he'd been in any other woman in his life for some time. Somehow, he doubted Nevena would be open to talking so candidly. They would need to eventually. He didn't want their arrangement to come to an end and for them to walk out of each other's lives without at least confronting what was so clearly between them.

There were also the things he would need to tell her. The nightmare today, the details of that, he would have to tell her eventually what it was that plagued him. He'd told her the most basic of details. Delving into it any further and he worried he would scare her away. He would have to if he wanted… whatever this was to go anywhere or develop. He didn't want to keep secrets from her. She deserved the truth. About everything.

After what felt like an hour, Cullen started to feel Nevena stirring. A soft murmur or groan signifying she was starting to wake, while she stretched her limbs. He watched her waking, the bleary blinking of her eyes and how she ruffled a hand through her hair lifting her head from his chest. He paused his fingers where he was drawing circles over the small of her back.

"Morning," he greeted her, keeping his voice low.

Nevena stared at him for an instant, blinked and then jerked up with a gasp. "Ohmy-I'msosorry!" She was wide awake in seconds, her skin turning scarlet across her face, neck, and chest.

"It's okay, it's okay." Cullen sat up, reaching his hands out towards her to placate her. "You fell asleep. It's not a crime." Nevena bit her lip. She shied away from his hands and he let them fall into his lap. "You were tired. We both were."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," she explained.

He shrugged. "No harm done." He thought treating it as though it were nothing would be the best course of action. "You sleep, okay?"

"Yeah… Yeah…" Nevena rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, yawned, and stretched her arms up. A low, satisfied groan spilled from her mouth, the sound of which made Cullen's blood flow hotly. "What about you?" She dropped her arms. "You sleep okay? Any more nightmares?"

"No," he shook his head. "I'm fine, promise."

Nevena glanced around the cabin as if looking for something. She spotted his phone on the coffee table and reached out for it before stopping herself and smiling sheepishly at him. "Uh… could I trouble you for the time?"

"Of course." Cullen pressed a button and the screen ignited. "It is… ten past one in the afternoon."

"Ten past one?" repeated Nevena, flopping back. "We wasted a whole day."

"Depends on your view of wasted." Cullen put his phone back on the table. "I consider it recharging."

"I guess that does make it sound a little better." A small smile tugged the corners of her mouth. "No Redcliffe today."

"It will still be there tomorrow." Cullen reached out and tentatively held her hand. Nevena glanced down at the gesture but didn't move her hand away. "I have a suggestion."

"Do you?"

"Seeing as it's already the afternoon, why don't we just take today off? A day off from your family, from everything. I'll go have a shower because I feel rather revolting. While I do that, why don't you set up a nest on the couch? We'll watch whatever Christmas crap is on TV." He tilted his head and smiled. As he did so a loose curl flopped in front of his eyes. Nevena pushed it away before Cullen could touch it. "What do you think?"

She nodded several times. "Sounds like the best idea I've heard in days."

"Good." Cullen got to his feet and stretched. "You build a fort, or a nest, or whatever you want. I'll try and be quick."

"Take your time." Nevena was already moving cushions and pillows.

Following his shower, Cullen changed into a clean pair of loose jogging bottoms, an old t-shirt, and hoodie for comfort. When he returned to the living room he saw Nevena had also showered and was roughly drying her hair with a towel. He saw that she'd brought in the pillows, cushions, and duvet from the bedroom. She'd pushed the coffee table up against the sofa, put cushions on that and spread the duvet out over both, making the sofa more like a futon. There were cushions piled up all around the couch, just to make it look more inviting and soft. The television was already playing some terrible Christmas movie countdown.

Joining her on the couch, Cullen stretched out his legs onto the coffee table. Nevena smiled, clearly pleased with what she had accomplished. Once she felt her hair was dry enough, she took the towel back to the bathroom to dry and returned, settling under the duvet.

Over the course of an hour or so, they talked back and forth, making comments and quips about the movie countdown that was so terrible and predictable, but neither of them could look away from. The whole situation and set up was comfortable and familiar. It occurred to Cullen this was the first time since getting to Haven that it'd just been the two of them sitting and relaxing in each other's company with no threat of interruption. None of her family around, and no plans they needed to go to. They could do what they wanted for the day, and it was easy. There were no awkward pauses, no long, dragging silences where they searched for something to say. When silence fell, it was comfortable. When they talked, it was not to fulfill any awkward need for sound. It was because they wanted to.

Cullen couldn't remember the last time he felt as relaxed as he did in someone else's company. Even with Varric, Cassandra, and some of his other friends, he felt a need to control himself. To keep some things internal and not be too upfront or honest. With Nevena, that thought never occurred to him. He hoped she wasn't holding back with him either. That this was the actual person she was, and not a front, or tightly controlled side to her personality. If the person sitting with him on the couch with her feet in his lap was the person she was, he would be happy.

The countdown took a break going to loud, over-enthusiastic commercials. Nevena quickly dropped the volume and Cullen stretched his hands and arms out, realizing he'd been sitting in much the same position for some time. Without thinking, his fingers brushed along the sole of Nevena's foot right foot. It jerked in his lap and he quickly caught it before she accidentally kicked him.

"Don't do that." Nevena narrowed her eyes.

"Do what?"

"Don't tickle me."

"I didn't." Cullen tightened his grip on her foot a little. "Not on purpose at least."

"Cullen…"

"How ticklish are you?" He ran his fingers along the underside of her foot again. Her leg seemed to spasm and her upper body jerked. "Maybe we should find out." He tilted a brow, mouth slipping into a crooked grin. He was flirting with her. Maker preserve him, he was actually flirting with her. And obviously, too. Again.

"I will not be responsible for what happens to yo- ah- don'tdon'tdon'tdon't!"Nevena squealed, her toes curling and her left foot kicking against Cullen's thigh as he ran his fingers back and forth on her skin. Her squeal became a loud peal of giggles. She reached towards him to grab his hand but as he increased the pressure on her foot, her whole body jerked and she wriggled more violently to get away. Her laughter was becoming breathless, her pleas interspersed with gasps. He paused his fingers for a few seconds, giving her a moment of respite, only to resume again when she caught her breath.

Cullen saw the colour flood her cheeks and tears begin to streak down her face. Somewhere a phone rang, trilling an obnoxious tune, but neither he nor Nevena paid it any mind. His smile grew into a grin as he left her foot and ran his hands up her legs to see what other parts of her body were as sensitive. As soon as his hands got to her waist she yelped and writhed where he applied pressure. Her hands flailed, grasping for purchase on him and finding none as her grip failed over and over. Laughter bubbled up in Cullen's chest, low rumbling chuckles that spilled out of him in response to her own giggling.

"Stopstop-" Nevena panted. "Ahhaa – Cullen- stopppit!" Her voice was growing strained. Cullen slowed his hands, coughing through his laughter. Nevena's hands wrapped around his wrists and in a series of quick movements, Cullen had his hands up by his head against the back of the couch and Nevena looming over him, staring him down. He realized she was straddling his lap.

Fuck.

Her grip wasn't particularly strong. Cullen knew he could easily overpower her and turn the tables but found he didn't want to. He watched her chest heave, the deep red colour staining her skin spreading all the way up to her forehead. Her nostrils flared, eyes blazing, hair a tousled mess around her face and shoulders – Maker's Breath, she was beautiful. Her fingers barely wrapped all the way around his wrists. The whole day she'd neglected to wear the hoodie he was used to seeing her in. If he straightened his head he would be eye-to-eye with her breasts so he kept his head arched back, eyes fixed on her face.

What laughter remained inside her spilled out of her mouth nervously, like bubbles through a brook. The mild anger on her face disappeared and was replaced by a bemused smile. She shook her head and Cullen could feel her fingers pressing into his skin. He wondered if she even realized the position they were in. How close they were. How easily he could lean up and kiss her. Maker, he wanted to. Just as he had the night before. Just as he had every minute of every day since… probably since the day he met her. She was driving him to distraction and she didn't even realize it, did she?

"Don't tickle me," Nevena commanded.

Cullen narrowed his eyes a little, considering his options. He could agree not to and put an end to this flirtation. Or he could be difficult and have it extend a while longer. "Or what?" He decided to be difficult. He rather liked having her over him this way.

A momentary look of shock flew across Nevena's expression. There and gone in a blink. Her tongue ran across her bottom lip before she bit it into her mouth, thoughtfully. She shifted on her knees. Cullen was certain she lowered herself into his lap because there was more weight on his thighs than before. "Are you not aware who has the upper hand here, Mr. Rutherford?" She tilted her head, "You're pinned."

"Am I now?" Flexing his hands, Cullen tensed his muscles and moved his arms away from the sofa. As he expected, he could move with relative ease. Nevena quickly put all her weight and strength into her grip and pushed back. He was surprised by the strength she mustered so quickly. He stopped tensing and allowed her to push his arms back into place. She readjusted her grip on his wrists. "I stand corrected."

"Yeah, y'do," Nevena smirked, lifting her chin in triumph. Her hair spilled forward over her shoulders. "What're you going to do about it?" She was teasing him. She knew he could easily overpower her, she must have known.

"Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeves," Cullen replied, matching her smirk with one of his own.

"Is that so?" Nevena's mouth twisted to one side. She wriggled towards him. The squashy material of the cushions made it difficult for her to retain her balance and she overarched, toppling forward somewhat. To stay upright, she pushed her weight down into her backside on Cullen's legs and went still for a moment or two until she was steady. When she moved again, Cullen inhaled shakily - her pelvis was directly above his and the position was doing nothing to calm the warmth beginning to simmer in Cullen's belly. Her balance and composure regained, Nevena's pleased smile returned. "What tricks might these be?"

Cullen shook his head. "That'd be telling," he remarked, watching how she bit the corner of her bottom lip and her smile broadened again. His eyelids flickered slightly and a soft groan hitched in his throat when she shifted her weight again - he disguised it as an attempt to clear his throat. Whether on purpose or not, she pressed her hips against his and the heat in Cullen's belly grew. His cock twitched and he prayed she wouldn't notice or feel anything through their loose clothing.

"Keep your secrets then," Nevena chuckled. "I don't need to know. I-" She stopped and sat up straight, like a dog finding a scent. Cullen heard the trill of a phone coming from the bedroom. "My phone." Nevena's grip slackened around his wrists. She was beginning to move to see who was calling. Cullen quickly grabbed her around the middle spreading his hands across her back while pushing his weight against her. Nevena squeaked in shock, bracing her hands on his shoulders. Cullen didn't stop moving until his hands were firmly cushioned between Nevena's back and the duvet.

He was over her, one leg bent and positioned between hers, torsos touching, faces parallel. He felt the quick rise and fall of Nevena's chest against his own and smiled at the nervous laughter spilling out of her. Cullen slid his hands up her back, pressing his fingers into her skin; she arched into him her laughter replaced with a small gasp. Her fingers clenched at his shoulders scrunching into his hoodie. He knew he should move. He was playing a risky game and until things between them were out in the open and they each knew where they stood, anything like this friendly and flirtatious behavior should be kept to a minimum and in front of her family.

But it was so hard to keep that in mind when she was right there beneath him, looking up at him with flushed cheeks, wet lips, and half-hooded eyes. Maybe there was more to it. Maybe he felt more between them than there was because of all the things he knew about her. And all the things she knew about him. He'd told her things some of his oldest friends didn't know. She'd witnessed and nursed him through a panic attack and the aftershocks of his nightmares. He cared about her in a way he didn't think was possible for him again. It was overwhelming, all-encompassing, and if Cullen was completely honest with himself, he wanted it to swallow him whole.

Of course, maybe he was simply fooling himself and there was no chance the way he was feeling towards her was reciprocated. Or if it was, it wasn't as strong. Maker, he hoped that wasn't the case.

"Uhm…" Nevena laughed a little. "This… is…"

"I'll move." Cullen tried not to allow disappointment to fill his chest when he began to shift his weight.

Nevena's hands gripped his shoulders. "I didn't say you had to move." Cullen stopped, his eyes widened a little. He noticed she was shocked at her own admission and her gaze darted away from his. "Uhm… I mean…" She closed her eyes and slapped one hand over the top half of her face. "I don't know what I mean," she sighed.

"Nevena," Cullen's fingers flexed along her back. He lifted one hand away and pulled her fingers from her face. That hand then cupped her cheek and Cullen brushed the tip of his thumb along her bottom lip. She kept her gaze averted demurely, breaths growing faster and shorter. Cullen could feel the warmth radiate off her cheeks as he inched closer, brushing the end of her nose with his in an overly affectionate gesture that he hoped was not too forward. "Look at me."

With some effort she did. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes and released it as steadily as she breathed as if the two things were linked somehow. Her brows furrowed. Her eyes went from his to his mouth and back again over and over. A small wriggle and Cullen adjusted his position over her to be more comfortable. Neither of them said a word, silence and tension building in equal measure until it was almost too much to bear and it felt like a crushing weight over them both. "Tell me what you want." Cullen's voice was a low, hoarse murmur and he felt Nevena shiver delightfully beneath him.

Nevena slipped one hand, gingerly, from his shoulder bringing it round to rest on his cheek. "I…" Cullen leaned into the touch instinctively, returning the soft smile Nevena offered with his own. "I want…" Her lips quirked to one side, her bottom one tucking behind her teeth, head tilting to one side. Her thumb brushed along the scar on his lip. "Where did you get this?"

As Cullen went to reply, two things happened. Nevena's phone started ringing from the bedroom again, and there were a series of loud knocks on the cabin door. Cullen sat up, confused for a moment as to who would be knocking. Then he remembered Varric saying his book would turn up today. He quickly clambered off Nevena and offered a hand to help her up.

"You should probably see who's been calling." He ruffled a hand through the hair at the back of his neck. Hot anger at being interrupted filled him, and his face was glowing, warm to the touch.

"It's probably Roselyn. I should have called her hours ago," Nevena said, avoiding his gaze and tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Go answer." He ushered her towards the bedroom. "I'll see who's at the door."

He waited until she was in the bedroom and he heard her speaking to whoever was on the receiver. When he knew it was safe, he answered the cabin door. A delivery truck was parked on the curb; the driver stood at the door bundled up against the cold, a small package in hand. After Cullen signed his name, he took the package, bid the driver a safe trip and closed the door.

Nevena was still in the bedroom, talking.

Cullen sat. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and stared at the space he and Nevena occupied mere moments before. His lip felt tingly from where she touched the scar and he ran his own thumb over it a few times. They needed to talk. Sooner, rather than later, before either of them did something they would later regret. He didn't want to be something she would regret, he knew that - he just wasn't sure how to approach talking about it with her.

He quickly slid the package into his bag before Nevena came back into the living room. They resumed their previous places at opposite ends of the couch, neither of them mentioning what almost happened.

Sighing, Cullen turned his attention back to the television. Tomorrow in Redcliffe. He would talk to her about it tomorrow. He wanted to enjoy today.


End file.
